


Secret Spaces

by pickleplum



Series: Unconventional Magic [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Animagus, Animal Death, Animal Traits, Animal Transformation, Bigotry & Prejudice, Blood, Boarding School, Dogs, Dragons, Friendship, Gen, Half-Human, Hogwarts, Investigations, Magic, Magic School, Magic-Users, Major Character Injury, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Mystery, New Friends, Pets, Scotland, Secrets, Separations, Spells & Enchantments, Squibs, Transfiguration (Harry Potter), Wandless Magic, Were-Creatures, Wizarding Politics, Wizarding World, Wizards, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-06 23:36:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 16,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11611320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickleplum/pseuds/pickleplum
Summary: Kicked out of Hogwarts for reasons beyond his control, Chuck Hansen throws himself into life at his new wizard academy and a mystery involving the theft of dragons.





	1. Cover art by ideare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As part of the WIP Big Bang, the wonderful ideare put together this _gorgeous_ cover art for the fic!
> 
> Other variants are on display on [ideare's webpage](https://amanivuote.dreamwidth.org/14770.html).
> 
> I'm so happy I could cry.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako wakes up in Hogwarts' Hospital Wing to a reunion with a slightly worse-for-wear Chuck.

20 October 2017  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
near Hogsmeade, Highland, Scotland, UK

* * *

Mako wakes in a room which isn't hers, wearing unfamiliar but very soft pajamas.

White drapes surround her bed, soft light, very quiet.

Dull aches as she pushes herself to sitting.

The Hospital Wing.

Because ...?

Hogwarts under attack.

**Dragon.**

Chuck—

""—you feeling better this morning, Miss Mori? No more itching?""

Mako controls a startle. "Yes, ma'am. The ointment did as you said."

""May I open the curtain, please?""

"Yes, ma'am."

Hooks rattle along their metal track.

Madam Pomfrey, a raceme of cardinal flower pinned to her amber _dupatta_ , flicks her wand at the lamp. "And your arm?"

Her arm ...?

_Scrabbling away and no wand but so many teeth—_

Mako flexes her elbow, rolls her shoulder. "It feels much better, thank you."

Madam Pomfrey makes a note. "You slept well, then?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Madam Pomfrey hums approval.

""'scuse me?""

Madam Pomfrey attends the door. "Yes, Coach Hansen?"

Mako sits up straight, smooths her blanket.

"Chuck's fine. I, um, wanted to check on Ma—Miss Mori."

Madam Pomfrey turns.

"Thank you, sir. I am doing well."

Coach Hansen twists his wedding ring around his finger. "Actually, Chuck sent me over to ask Miss Mori to visit, if she wants."

Mako looks to Madam Pomfrey.

"If Miss Mori is feeling up to it, there's no problem with a visit."

Coach Hansen's shoulders drop and he smiles weakly. "I'll walk you over, if you'd like."

"Yes, please!" Mako slides out of bed, checks her balance, tucks her feet in the waiting slippers, then links her arm with Coach Hansen's.

They walk past closed doors along the hall to the private room at the end.

Inside: Chuck, cushioned by at least a dozen pillows and skin a sunburned pink where it isn't covered by bandages.

"I ... I'll leave you two to catch up," mumbles Coach Hansen.

"Thank you, sir," says Mako.

Coach Hansen slinks off down the hall.

"May I join you?"

"Fure," says Chuck, offering the chair at his bedside. "'o fo it."

"Thank you." Mako sits, the smell of burn cream thick in the air.

Chuck swallows, digs amid the blankets, then—"TimTam?"

"Thank you." Mako accepts a biscuit.

Chuck smiles—almost doesn't wince—and leans back in his nest, shoves another treat in his mouth.

Mako stifles an eye-roll, but allows herself a small smile. "Where did you get TimTams?" She bites off a corner.

Chuck swallows another too-large mouthful. "Ray sent 'em up from London. 'Thanks for savin' my brother' and all that."

"Yancy will be alright, then?"

"Mhm. Said the Healers at St Mungo's have him nearly good as new already."

"That is wonderful news."

"Yea." Chuck blows out a deep breath. "As far as I know, no one got permanently messed up yesterday." Frowns. "'cept ... you know."

"You didn't have a choice."

"Not really, but." Chuck scratches at the wrappings over his chest, mumbles, "My mum sent some TimTams, too."

Mako tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"You're okay, right?"

"I'm fine. The burns are already healed thanks to Madam Pomfrey."

"Cool, cool ...." Chuck's gaze wanders to the window.

Mako's follows.

Sunlight pokes through low grey clouds; trees bend in the breeze.

Chuck sighs.

"" **Inky!** ""

Mako and Chuck jump.

Something black and low to the ground skitters past the door.

"What was—"

Something plaid and First Year-sized flies by.

""Get back here 'fore I hex yer scaly bum!""

Mako looks to Chuck.

"Katie MacIver and her dragon, I think." He shrugs, then picks at the duvet cover.

Silence stretches like a sleepy cat.

Mako takes a deep breath. "What have you been doing since I saw you last?"

"Uh, not much, really?"

Mako gives him her best 'I don't believe you' look.

Chuck rubs his neck with a bandaged hand. "Okay, well, did I tell you who came to see me off?"


	3. Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Asked' to leave Hogwarts, Chuck says his goodbyes and learns his new school _might_ have a different approach to things magical when he meets the Headmaster.

08 October 2017  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
near Hogsmeade, Highland, Scotland, UK

* * *

Chuck lies flat out on his bed, running his eyes across the ceiling, over the stonework—

Voices drift from the sitting room downstairs.

The Old Man and—

Chuck's ears prick; he pushes up on his elbows.

Chatter continues.

He flops back down, traces a path through the maze of mortar twisting and snaking around joints and cracks—

A knock at the door.

Chuck sighs, heaves himself up, opens—straightens his jumper, opens the door.

Professor Evans asks, "May I talk with you a moment?"

"Sure, Professor." Chuck steps aside, offers the desk chair.

"Thanks."

Chuck ... snatches a tin from the dresser. "Jellybean?"

"Thank you." Evans helps himself to a purple one, sits—makes a face. "Seems I got 'bat'. You?"

"Wha—oh—" Chuck jams a candy in his mouth, wrinkles his nose. "Tree bark."

"Not the best batch."

"Not really, no."

Chuck fiddles with the tin.

"Would you like to have a seat?"

"Right. Good idea." Chuck perches on his bed, tosses the tin aside.

"I just talked to the headmaster from Loch Tay." Evans gages the distance, then pulls the chair a bit closer. "Everything's all arranged."

Chuck tugs at his cuffs.

"Not looking forward to it, huh?"

"Not really."

"It's hard leaving your friends—"

Chuck scoffs.

"Miss Mori—"

"Okay, sure, there's Mako, but everyone else dropped me soon as they found out."

Evans leans forward, clasps his hands between his knees. "I thought we'd be doing better by now. It takes a long time to undo prejudices and wizards are so **stuck** on tradition." Sighs. "And then there's that mess with the missing dragons."

"How does that have anything to do with me?"

"People are scared and looking for **something** to blame," he apologises.

Chuck huffs, keeps his eyes on the rug.

"But, the people at Loch Tay? They're the best in the Europe with conditions like yours."

"Right."

"They've got all the tools to help you and we just ... don't. Not yet." He smiles weakly. "Hogwarts wasn't ready for you and that's on us."

Chuck rubs the back of his neck.

"You're gonna be in the best hands."

Chuck flattens his palms against his trousers.

"The Loch Tay folks are really good people, too."

"Uh, okay. That's ... good."

Evans shifts, brushes his bangs off his forehead—

That spiderweb of white across his brown skin.

"Hmm?"

Chuck looks away quickly.

"You can ask this time, Mister Hansen."

"Uh ...." Chuck rubs his neck. "How far back does it ...?"

"About to here," Evans gestures at his crown.

"Cool. Maybe? I think."

"You and me both."

Silence again—the downstairs clock chimes.

Evans starts. "Right!" Clears his throat. "They said someone'll be outside the front gate to pick up you and your things in about an hour."

"Already?"

"They said they want you good and settled before the next new moon."

"Cutting it a little close, ay?"

"There's still ten days. Plenty of time to adjust."

Chuck sighs. "Should probably start packing, then."

"Would you like help?"

"Nah, I can handle it. Thanks, Professor. For everything."

"You're welcome." Evans pushes to his feet, moves to the door. "Send me an owl whenever you want, alright?"

"Sure. Thank you."

Evans smiles, sketches a wave, lets himself out, and closes the door behind.

Chuck exhales shakily, flops back on his mattress.

He breathes there for a bit.

"That's it. It's over. I'm done." Sighs. "Might as well break my wand."

Drapes an arm over his eyes, sighs again.

* * *

 

"Was this before or after I visited?"

"Before."

Mako nods. "When you fell asleep."

"I didn’t fall asleep—"

"Of course not, you just dozed off."

Chuck sniffs.

Mako smiles. "Have you planted your going-away present?"

"The Devil's Snare?"

She nods.

"Not yet. I'm, uh, waiting 'til I'm someplace more permanent."

"You're planning on moving again?"

"I'm gonna graduate eventually, yea?" He rubs the back of his neck. "I've, uh, got it on my desk, though."

"I'm glad to hear it has a place of honour," she says.

"My roommates tease me 'bout it, but they can go to Hell."

Mako's heart flutters through a few beats.

Chuck takes a deep breath. "I s'pose Cameron Walker's still crowing like a fucking ass about getting me thrown out."

Mako studies her hands.

"What? Not gonna defend him?"

"He should not have revealed your secret. It was wrong and he should've been punished."

"Was he?"

"Not that I am aware." Adds, voice low, "There is no rule against violating another's privacy, though there should be."

"Doesn't hurt his old man's some kinda big shot, either."

Mako sighs. "I wish you could've stayed."

"Headmaster McGonagall 'suggested' I transfer." Chuck slumps. "Wouldn't win a fight with **her** on my best day."

"I suppose not."

"It's not like I wanted to go," huffs Chuck. "Quit Hogwarts for school fulla Squibs and monsters."

"You're not a—"

"I must be or they wouldn't have 'asked' me to leave."

"Chuck ...." She takes a deep, deep breath. "I want to stay with y—"

He rolls his eyes. "We've been over this. Don't you **dare** wreck your life, too. One of us washing out's bad enough."

"You didn't **choose** this."

"But you would be, ay?" He finds and holds her gaze. "So don't. Please."

Mako bites her lip, eyes getting big and shiny.

Chuck looks away. "Well, someone still needs to show this place how it's done: it's your job now."

"I'll make you proud."

"You'd better—ow!"

Mako removes her elbow from Chuck's ribs. "You had better do the same."

Chuck rubs his side, sniffs. "I'll be on top by the end of the month."

Mako grins. "I'll hold you to that."

"You don't think I can?"

"I **know** you can."

"Good."

"What happened after I left that day?"

Chuck lets out a shaky breath. "Well—"

* * *

 

The Old Man reappears, mumbles, "You have everything packed?"

"Yea. 's all in the locker."

"Letter for your Mum?"

Chuck points with his chin. "On the desk."

The Old Man nods absently, then, "I've got a trolley downstairs. So, let's ...."

Chuck grunts, grabs his broom, stomps out, down, across, out, into the corridor, straight to the faculty entrance, and into rare autumn afternoon sunshine.

The trolley catches up first, trundling along on a Locomotor charm, around the turn for the main gate.

The Old Man falls into step a few moments later.

Chuck says nothing, keeps tromping.

Soft footfalls behind them.

Chuck turns.

Max, head low, most definitely doesn't look at him.

"You can't come."

The young thestral _whuffles_ , tries to make himself smaller and cuter.

"You need to stay here. So, go." Chuck shoos him.

Max paws the ground, swishes his long tail nervously.

"'m not joking. Get lost." Chuck shoos harder.

Max takes a foot-dragging step toward the Forbidden Forest.

Chuck snorts, snaps a turn, marches on.

The Old Man jogs a couple paces, matches stride.

Soft footfalls behind them.

Chuck whips around.

Max, head low, most **definitely** isn't closer.

"You. Can't. Come."

Max makes a whiny noise, shifts his hooves.

Chuck growls, lunges, waving his arms and broom.

Max squawks, flings himself off the drive, across the lawns, and into the Forest.

"Stupid thing."

"He doesn't want you to leave, either," mumbles the Old Man.

"He's shit outta luck, then, 'cos I'm going."

The Old Man winces.

Chuck keeps plodding.

The trolley-with-trunk reaches the gate, pivots from view behind the wall.

Chuck checks over his shoulder.

No Max.

He grunts, plods on.

Outside, at the edge of the wide spot in the road to Hogsmeade, a skinny bloke in a black jacket and trousers strokes the bonnet of a little blue car parked nose-to-nose with an identical model in pale green.

Skinny's the only person there, the trolley's empty, and Chuck's trunk is nowhere to be seen.

Chuck side-eyes.

The Old Man frowns.

Skinny keeps petting, coos in a Scottish accent, "'s'alright, Anglia-dearie. There're plenty of other fords in the stream, so to speak. You'll find a companion soon enough."

"'scuse me?" calls the Old Man.

Skinny straightens, sparkles around. "Misters Hansen! So **wonderful** to finally meet you!"

The Old Man rocks back a half-step. "Uh, right. You are ...?"

The Scottish wizard—and he **must** be a wizard with eyebrows **that** crazy—replies, "Diarmad Fairbairn, headmaster, Loch Tay Regional Combined School, also known as—" He says some Gaelic-sounding gibberish, offers his hand.

Chuck covers his surprise with his most polite, "Pleased to meet you, sir," and shakes.

Fairbairn turns to the Old Man. "Thank you for trusting your son to us, Mister Hansen."

The Old Man releases Fairbairn's grip. "Th-thanks for taking him mid-semester like this."

"New students are always welcome." Fairbairn smiles. "The young master'll no doubt catch up in an eye-blink."

Chuck suppresses a smirk.

"I'm kinda surprised you—headmaster and all—'re the one to come."

"Desira and I happened to be taking a holiday in Glenfinnan, so it was dead simple to pop over."

"That's ... convenient."

"Isn't it just?"

Chuck scuffs a foot. "So ... how're we getting there?"

Fairbairn grins dangerously. "We're going to **drive**."

"We're **what**?"

"We'll be traveling as the majority of our countrymen do: by road in a private vehicle."

"You can **drive**?"

"Of **course** I can drive. I'm fully licensed and insured and Cynthia here—" He pats the roof of the green car. "—passed her M.O.T. last month and's properly taxed."

Chuck eyeballs the car. "What sorta charms do you use?"

"Not a single one. We have an **excellent** mechanic." Fairbairn crosses his arms, leans against the car door, smug. "Cynthia's exactly as beautiful and sporty as she was when she left the showroom with my father in nineteen-sixty-two thanks to skilled, completely mundane, tinkering."

"Huh." Chuck thumbs the other car. "What's the story on that one, by the way?"

"Just a new friend popping by for a visit. Now, then." Fairbairn straightens. "What're we going to do about **your** friend?"

"Which friend?"

"That one." Fairbairn bobs his chin toward edge of the Forest.

Chuck looks.

Max's long face peeks out between the branches.

"That li'l ...."

The Old Man steps—

Fairbairn shakes his head.

The Old Man stops, eyebrow up.

"I suppose there's nothing **to** do except bring him along."

" **Wha?** "

Fairbairn grins, waves airily. "Call him over while I find the necessary supplies, please."

Chuck turns to the trees—now apparently Max-free, hollers, "'ey, Handsome! C'mere!"

Brush rattles.

"C'mon, Max! Let's see ye!"

Something brown and white and wrinkly waddles across the grass toward them.

Chuck's jaw drops.

"What'd you **do**?!" squeaks the Old Man.

Fairbairn keeps rummaging in the car boot. ""I Changed—Transfigured—him into something less conspicuous and more compact for the journey.""

"He looks like a dog!"

""Yes, an English Bulldog, to be precise.""

" **Why?** "

""Would you rather something more striking? A deerhound, perhaps?""

There's something oddly hopeful in the tone.

"Nah. This's fine." Chuck crouches, rubs Max's floppy ears.

Max _woffles_ , wags his whole back half.

"You ... you're stealing a thestral!"

Fairbairn scoffs. ""I'm helping a wild creature migrate. **Aha!** "" Reappears around the car. "I **knew** I packed the spares."

Max smushes his face into Chuck's hands.

"Why don't you do the honours, lad?" Fairbairn offers a bit of leather trimmed with plaid fabric and a strip of black nylon webbing.

"Thanks." Chuck accepts, then fastens the collar under Max's chins, clips on the lead.

Max wags his stumpy tail.

A last rub of his ears and Chuck straightens.

"I'll get your broom settled while you gentlemen say what you need to each other."

Chuck passes over the handle.

Fairbairn bustles off.

Chuck waits.

The Old Man twists his damn ring.

"Stop that."

He jerks his hands apart. "S-sorry."

Chuck waits, not fidgeting.

"I ...."

"Look, I need to go."

The Old Man startles, then goes down on one knee.

Chuck swallows a growing lump.

"You're okay with this, boy?"

Max _woofs_ , licks his own nose.

"Alright, then." He hauls himself to standing, puts his shoulders back, catches Chuck's eye.

Chuck scuffs his foot against the tarmac.

"Take care of him for us, alright?"

"Wi-will do," croaks Chuck.

The Old Man looks away.

Chuck turns on his heel, marches to the green car.

Fairbairn smiles reassurance, gestures to the open passenger door.

Chuck scoops up Max, leans—

" _woof!_ " greets a brindled dog made mostly of legs standing on the back seat.

""Yes, Desira! It's a new friend for you!""

Legs nearly wags herself into the footwell.

Chuck grunts, heaves Max onto the blanket next to Legs.

""The lead clips—""

"I see it." Chuck fits the bracket at the end of the strap into the buckle between the cushions.

Max sits, pants happily.

""Ready?""

"Yea, let's do this." Chuck shoves the seat backward, throws himself into it, belts himself in.

Fairbairn folds himself behind the wheel, makes some checks, fires up the engine. A glance in the mirror and he shifts the car into gear, purrs them down the road towards Hogsmeade.

Max _woofs_.

Chuck peers over his shoulder.

Max gets his front paws on the windowsill, sticks his head out, and lets the wind flap his jowls.

Chuck stifles a little smile, twists back. "How long will the Transfiguration hold?"

"Only until someone removes it."

"Huh." Chuck braces his chin with his hand, watches the countryside flow past the window glass.


	4. Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako and Chuck welcome more visitors: Chuck's roommates from Loch Tay.

20 October 2017  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
near Hogsmeade, Highland, Scotland, UK

* * *

"They let you keep a Transfigured thestral as a pet?"

"Well, yea? Katie—the little kid who ran past—walks around all day with that dragon on her shoulder done up like a ferret." Chuck shrugs. "Max doesn't even rate a second look."

Mako opens the next packet of TimTams, nabs one. "If that's true, would they let him on campus in his proper shape?"

"Nah. There're Mug—mundane kids about." Chuck chews, expression thoughtful. "'sides, he seems to like life better this way. Everyone can see and pet him."

Mako goes still. "Excuse me, there are **what** about?"

"Students without magic. The place doubles as the local high school."

"Are-are they **insane**?"

"Kinda?"

"Chuck, that's—"

Scuffling and wordless whining from the hall.

Mako and Chuck attend.

Headmaster McGonagall marches to a stop in front of the door, hand firmly clamped on the shoulder of brunet boy in an unfamiliar school uniform.

Two other boys cower in her shadow: one tall with ruddy brown skin and large, dark freckles, and a redhead with an awful scar above his collar.

"Madam Pomfrey! A moment!"

""Yes, Headmaster?""

"Mister Taylor here has suffered a bruise which requires treatment."

Madam Pomfrey studies Headmaster McGonagall and the three boys for a moment.

The one in the Headmaster's grip shrugs—"Ow!"

The ginger rubs his own elbow, adds, "He's **very** bruised."

Madam Pomfrey says slowly, "Ah yes, a bruise. Right this way, young man." She steers the brunet into a chair she summons to Chuck's bedside.

The other two slink along behind: the darker-skinned one with his shoulders hunched over an armful of TimTam packets and the ginger biting his lip against laughter.

A rotund bulldog—Max?—waddles after them on a lead.

"Now, if you excuse me, I have some paperwork to do." Madam Pomfrey bows and exits.

They finish their approach with the ginger heaving the dog onto the bed, the TimTams added to the pile on the side table, and everyone seated.

Chuck stops beaming at Max to grumble, "How'd **you** guys get here?"

"Fairbairn **drove** ," says the ginger.

"I've never wanted to fly more in my **life** ," wails the 'bruised' brunet.

Chuck peers at the door. "Where is he?"

"Probably laughing about Liam's screaming with Her Headmistress-ness."

"No way she's back—"

" **Waiting** to laugh about it with Her Headmistress-ness, then."

"It wouldn't have been so bad if the dogs'd been okay with it," huffs the ginger. "But, **nooo** they had to crawl on **me** for comfort and now I smell like dog."

"You **always** smell like dog."

Mako clears her throat.

Chuck cringes. "So ... Mako, these're my roommates: Liam—"

"Pleased to meet'ye," says the brunet.

"—Kieran—"

The dark boy bobs his head.

"—and Iestyn."

"'ello~!" sings the ginger.

"Guys, this's Mako, my friend."

" **Girl** friend," corrects Liam.

Chuck goes even pinker.

"Holy shit, yer **adorable** when you blush," squees Iestyn, reaching for—sombers. "They took my stuff." Heaves a sigh. "I'd **love** to take a picture, but they confiscated anything with a battery at the gate, including my precious mobile."

" **All** of our mobiles," grumps Kieran.

Liam crows, "It's **The Rules** , mates. No mundane tech on these hallowed grounds. Phoebe couldn't keep **anything**."  
Kieran grumbles, "Brainwashing, plain and simple."

Mako bristles.

He sneers, "Tryin' to isolate folks from their families and erase—" Glares at Iestyn.

Iestyn's hand continues, "—their culture: textbook brainwashing."

"I don't sound like that."

"You do." To Mako, "Don't mind Kieran. He likes the view from his high horse."

Kieran sulks lower in his chair.

"Liam, may I ask a personal question?"

"Sure, though I'm pretty sure I know what it is already."

Mako raises an eyebrow.

"The question's 'if your sister's **star** Ravenclaw First Year Phoebe Taylor, why aren't you here at Hogwarts?' and the answer's 'I'm what you call a Squib'." Liam spreads his hands, grinning. "How'd I do?"

"That was my question. Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

Mako bobs her head. "Are you all Squibs?"

"Nope~! We're the school's diversity ambassadors!"

"Are you gonna put on the same show you did for me?" grumps Chuck.

"Would you like that, Mako?"

She smiles, takes another TimTam. "Please, go ahead."

Chuck rolls his eyes.

Liam beams, throws his arms wide. "Then let me introduce the poster children for True Thomas's School for the Unwanted and Inconvenient!"

Max _woofs_.

"That's **right** , Wrinkles! Us!" cheers Liam. "You already know about me: first Squib in ten generations of Geordie wizards."

"I'm a werewolf and **Welsh** ," snickers Iestyn.

"Half-breed," mumbles Kieran.

Mako studies him.

Liam prompts, "And then Chuck said ...."

Chuck lowers his eyebrows. "Half what?"

"Selkie."

Mako nods. "From the group in the Monach Isles?"

Kieran sits a bit straighter. "They're from Norway, actually."

Liam nudges his side. "See, some folks ask sensible questions if you tell 'em."

Kieran makes a non-committal noise.

"Chuck, on the other hand, asked ...."

"Don't remember."

"Oh, I think you do."

Chuck glowers at Liam.

He waits, smug.

"He asked 'which half?'" supplies Iestyn, fighting a grin.

Mako winces.

Kieran sighs.

"So High Horse here just looks at him, totally deadpan: 'left.'!"

Liam, succumbs to his grin, adds, "It was **priceless**!"

Mako chokes back a laugh.

He giggles, "Ask a silly question~!"

Chuck scowls harder.

Still smiling, Mako takes the packet of TimTams back from Kieran, offers it to Chuck. "You were told about his 'condition' before he arrived?"

"Nope," says Iestyn.

"It's a private thing," adds Liam.

"You told them then, since they'd been open with you?"

Chuck swallows his mouthful of TimTam. "No—"

"He waited until a properly awkward moment," says Liam.

Mako frowns at Chuck.

He frowns back.

She stifles an eye-roll. "The staff knew?"

" **They** did," says Chuck, "or a lot of 'em did."

"That's standard for werefolk and Shifters. So they can help if something goes wrong."

"Shifters?"

"People who change shape without spells? Uh ... what's the fancy word for it?"

"Oh. Animagus."

"Yea! That's it! Anyway, after this one kid turned himself into a cat for a week to get outta lectures, they make sure the teachers know if you can Shift."

"Even if the entire staff **doesn't** know, the health folks **definitely** do."

Mako rushes her chewing—

"The School has a whole **team** devoted to werefolk health," says Liam. "Right, Iestyn?"

"Right! There's two healers, a potions brewer, and a psychiatrist."

Mako blinks. "All that? Just for w-werefolk?"

"They're there for **anybody** , but we're required to see 'em," explains Iestyn. He cocks his head. "You don't have a setup like that here?"

"There's only Madam Pomfrey."

"How do werefolk get by?"

"They don't," snarls Chuck. "This's boring. Why're we talking about it anyway?"

"Because she asked?" points out Liam.

"We should talk about something **interesting**."

"Such as?"

Chuck shrugs.

Liam nudges Iestyn with his elbow. "Should we tell her about what happened at self-defence class?"

"We **totally** should."

Kieran smirks.

"What? No, wait—"

Liam rubs his palms together, leans forward, "So, it's Chuck's first real day of lectures and—"


	5. Self-Defence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck learns—the hard way—lessons at Loch Tay are _very_ different from those at Hogwarts.

11 October 2017  
Loch Tay Regional Combined School  
near Killin, Stirling, Scotland, UK

* * *

Chuck eyeballs the herd of students around him and Max shuffling through the magic building toward the self-defence gym: maybe a dozen kids his age—a few with animal Familiars beside or on them—in little clumps, all wearing grey jackets or jumpers over white shirts and plaid ties. Most wear grey trousers, but there are a few plaid skirts—uh, kilts—about.

"What'ye see?" asks Iestyn.

"Why don't all the plaids match?"

"'cos you're allowed to wear a family tartan if you want instead of school colours," explains Liam.

Iestyn asks, "You have any Scottish blood, Chuck?"

"No."

"Me, either. Guess it's house colours unless we get ourselves adopted."

"Or marry into a proper Scottish family. Maybe Kieran'll take one of you."

Kieran sniffs.

"Aw, someone's too serious to fall in looove~!" snickers Iestyn. "What about you, Chuck? Someone waiting for you back home?"

"Kinda," mumbles Chuck.

Liam gets the door and holds it for them.

Iestyn sparkles into Chuck's space. "Ooo~! What're they like?"

Chuck rubs his neck. "Well, she's—what the Hell're **they** doing here?!"

"Huh? Who?"

Chuck points across the room to where two giant blonds chat with a short witch with her black hair pulled into a ponytail. "Sashas!"

Iestyn follows his finger. "Um, dunno. They just show up sometimes."

"Wha'd you—"

""On the mark!""

Chuck—and everyone else—controls a startle, queues up on a line painted on the floor.

"We're having open practice, so pair up!" orders Ponytail. "Griggs, Hansen! Over here, please."

Whispers and a few open stares.

Chuck side-eyes.

Kieran's already halfway across the room.

"Stay here, Max."

" _woof!_ "

Chuck puts his shoulders back, marches over to Ponytail, gives his most polite, "Yes, ma'am?"

"Miss MacCailín."

Chuck acknowledges.

MacCailín snaps a nod. "Now, this isn't a duel: this's a **fight** , so dueling rules don't apply. Just defend yourself and attack when you can, understand?"

Chuck barely controls his smirk. "Yes, Miss MacCailín."

Kieran nods.

MacCailín smiles, steps back. "On 'three', then. One."

Chuck squares his feet, tightens his grip on his wand—

"Two."

—notes Kieran's empty hands, takes a deep breath—

"Three."

—orders, " _Fli—_ "

An invisible brick-fucking-wall **smashes** into his face.

Chuck, ears ringing, blinks at the acoustic tiles of the classroom ceiling.

Kieran and MacCailín swim into view.

"Everything feel right?" asks MacCailín, offering a handkerchief.

Chuck takes stock. "Yea, I'm fine." Pushes to sitting, looks to Kieran. "What'd you hit me with?"

"Forceful Hand."

"Your nose is bleeding," says MacCailín, stuffing the cloth into Chuck's hand.

He wipes his upper lip. "How'd you draw so fast?"

"Don't need a wand for simple hexes." Kieran cocks his head. "You **sure** you're alright?"

"I **said** I'm fine," snaps Chuck, shoving to his feet. "I want another shot at you."

Kieran looks to MacCailín.

"Knock yerselves out." She wanders away.

Chuck jams the handkerchief into a pocket, brushes off the seat of his trousers, straightens his jacket.

"Listen, Hansen, before we try this again, **think** about what MacCailín told you."

"I know what I'm doing," snarls Chuck.

Kieran shrugs. "If you say so."

Chuck grits his teeth, sets his feet. "One—"


	6. Cryptic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck's misfortunes are a source of hilarity for his roommates.

20 October 2017  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
near Hogsmeade, Highland, Scotland, UK

* * *

"Liam an' I were nearly **sick** laughing 'fore he figured out the secret," giggles Iestyn.

Chuck scowls at him.

"MacCailín **told** him, right at the start, and it /still took an hour of having his arse kicked to realize," smugs Kieran.

Chuck switches targets.

"What 'secret' are you talking about?" asks Mako.

"You have to cast a nonverbal Shield charm **during** the countdown," mutters Chuck. "You need to **cheat** to win."

"It's not **cheating** ," insists Kieran. "It's a **fight** , not a **dance**."

"MacCailín **did** tell you dueling rules don't apply," points out Iestyn.

Chuck huffs.

"That's not how Professor Evans teaches in Defence Against the Dark Arts, so he had no way of know—" Mako plays the tale back in her mind, swallows. "I would've had the same difficulty."

Chuck sulks into his pillows.

Max _woffles_ , looks beseechingly at Mako.

"TimTam?" offers Liam.

She smiles, rubs Max's shoulders with both hands.

Chuck yanks one from the packet, snaps off a quarter with his teeth.

Max wiggles to the very edge of the mattress, panting happily.

"Mako?"

"Thank you." Mako nibbles, pets Max with her free hand. "Did you ever figure out why the Sashas were visiting?"

"Yep!" chirps Liam.

"Though we had to break a few rules to do it," adds Iestyn.

"You weren't complaining then," grumbles Chuck.

"Still not complaining, just stating a fact."

Chuck rolls his eyes. "Anyway, after Self-Defence—"


	7. Emergency Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck accepts a nudge into investigating the missing dragons with a little help from his new friends.

11 October 2017  
Loch Tay Regional Combined School  
near Killin, Stirling, Scotland, UK

* * *

Chuck, Max, Liam, and Iestyn saunter away from the magic building toward the Big Hall—Kieran having gone off in another direction.

Chuck's head and hip ache but he does. not. limp.

The building's showing through the bare trees when Iestyn nudges Chuck's side. "Check it out. MacIvers."

Chuck scans—"Where?"

"Thought you knew everything 'bout them, but ye still can't spot 'em?" Iestyn points.

Two women—one tall and black with a lizard on her shoulder, the other stockier and white with bright pink hair and a brown-and-white cat coiled around her neck—who look a lot like—

"Luna? Tamsin?"

They turn—

Luna calls, "Chuckie?"

Chuck's life flashes in front of his eyes.

Tamsin continues, "Mako said we might bump into you—"

"And we'll catch up later, but we must be off."

Chuck sketches a wave. "Uh, okay. Later, then."

Luna and Tamsin saunter into the building.

Chuck braces—

Liam **grins**. "'Chuckie'?"

Iestyn jams an elbow in Liam's ribs. "Mako's your girlfriend, then?"

"Yea."

"Been together a while?"

"'bout a year."

"You lucky bastard."

"But it gives you hope, doesn't it?" says Liam. "A ginger **can** find love!"

Iestyn scowls, throws a lazy punch which Liam dodges, laughing.

Chuck chews his lip as they hang their coats in the Big Hall foyer. "You guys have any idea why there're Sashas and MacIvers about?"

"Nope," says Iestyn.

"Not a clue," adds Liam.

""It's the beasties under Glasgow,"" drawls a voice behind them.

Iestyn cringes; Chuck and Liam turn.

Chuck sizes up the speaker—a short bloke who looks like a paler, shorter version of that blond vampire character from that old American vampire show Tamsin likes (Spats? Spike? **Spike!** )—and asks, "What beasties in Glasgow?"

"Those one's went missing in the Islands a few weeks back?"

Chuck's antennae twitch. "Yea?"

"We found 'em last night. Or most of 'em, at least."

Liam frowns. "In Glasgow?"

" **Under** Glasgow, in the subway tunnels."

"That's ... really weird."

"Int it?"

Liam's uniform jacket _chirps_.

"Shit. We gotta go, Chuck, or we'll be late for art history."

"I'll be there in a moment. Save me a seat."

"Will do." Liam flicks a salute, jogs off.

Chuck—

"Your ginger pal scarpered while we were talking. Don't think he likes the look of me." Spikey smiles and there's something, um, **animal** about the expression. "Can't say I blame him."

"Uh, riiight. So, everyone's here to talk about it?"

"Yea, emergency session in the auditorium." That unnerving smile again. "If you're interested."

"Nah. I gotta get to class."

"Suit yerself." Spikey waves, strolls off down the corridor to the left.

Chuck counts to five, checks for familiar faces and teacher-types, then sneaks down the hall with Max at his heels, following signs for the auditorium, then for the balcony seats.

He finds a private box shielded by a velvet curtain, settles down out of sight of the stage and the rest of the audience sitting with his back against the front seats.

Max flops down next to him.

""—crossing the Clyde at Portland Street, looked up, and spotted two wee yins fluttering by,"" says Spikey—by the voice—from the stage. ""Tracked 'em south-ish and into the subway—""

""Did anyone else see them?""

""MacCailín and who the fuck knows who else. She threw a blanket memory hex, but.""

Grumbling and Chuck chews his lip.

""We followed a trail to a storage vault along the line someone'd converted into a nursery for dragons. There were a dozen of them in kennels and another ten eggs in—""

""Where're the rest of them?!"" hollers a voice.

""Not there.""

""But where—""

""More important,"" calls Spikey, ""there was a trace of regular humans having been there **with** the dragons.""

Chuck's heart stutters as the crowd explodes into hissy whispers.

Luna says, ""Now you know why it's so important we get to the bottom of this. The Secrecy's—""

""There you are!""

Chuck jumps, twists to face Stevie, standing at the end of the front row. "What're you—"

"Doing my mentor thing and saving you from having your ears boxed. C'mon," she orders, grabbing his arm.

* * *

 

"I've been meaning to ask, what does a 'mentor' do?"

"Show newbies the ropes at the start," explains Iestyn. "We all have 'em."

"We also—except for Chuck—all have ducklings of our own to sheepdog," adds Liam.

Mako ....

"Yea, this's something else they should do here."

Mako nods slowly.

"Anyway, Stevie starts dragging me out of the auditorium—"

* * *

 

"I was listening—"

"Yea, and you're gonna get caught playing truant in a minute. We gotta go."

Chuck huffs, pushes to his feet.

Stevie steers them to the stairs and down to the foyer.

"How'd you find me anyway?"

"Taylor texted, said you didn't show for class. The auditorium was a lucky guess."

Chuck frowns.

"It's a small school and everyone knows everyone's business?"

"That's ... that's not comforting."

"But it **can** be useful."

"If you say so," mutters Chuck.

"You hungry yet?"

"I could go for something. Wanna hit the caf?"

"Actually ... since we've both got the afternoon free, wanna head into the village and treat ourselves?"

"I'm broke."

"I'll buy." Stevie grins. "I've got a frequent customer discount."

"Sure, then. Why not."

"Magic. We'll take the fireplace in the gatehouse."

"I should probably take Max back to the dorm ...."

"You can leave him here with Fairbairn's mutt." Stevie chuckles. "The staff'll get a kick outta the odd couple they'll make: the bulldog and the deerhound."

Chuck snorts a little laugh.

It's the work of a minute to hand over Max to the cooing reception staff, then they climb into their coats and Chuck follows Stevie from the Big Hall, to the smaller gatehouse at the edge of campus and into the green flames, carefully pronouncing, "Gowdie and Gray's in Killin."

Chuck steps out into a bright room and, following Stevie's lead, wipes his shoes on the hearth.

The small space doesn't have much more than the fireplace and a door to the outside.

"'In Killin'?" he asks.

"The other one's in Glasgow—" Sneezes.

"Bless you."

"Thanks." Stevie digs a tissue from her pocket, wipes her nose. "The other 'Gowdie and Gray's' is in Glasgow." Tucks the tissue away. "Counter's up front. This way."

They step into another, larger room; lace curtains frame the windows, colourful throw rugs cover the hardwood floors, and a queue of students and adults snaking among the tables.

"It always this busy?"

"Nah." Stevie cranes her neck, scans. "Our local celebrity must be putting in an appearance."

Chuck raises an eyebrow.

"This famous author-type lives at the other end of the loch and it's a bit of a thing when she comes into town. It's a real pain, but she's harmless."

"Anyone I'd know?"

"Maybe. You like books about teenage wizards?"

"Not really."

"Then you wouldn't know her. That's her thing: teen wizards. The books sell about a gazillion copies each."

"Huh. What d'ye think she'd make of us?"

"Hmm ... you can't exist and I'm too well-adjusted."

Chuck snorts, scans the walls, which're covered with about a million pictures of some red-headed family.

They shuffle forward, reaching the front before **too** much time goes by.

"Hey, Miss Enid!" greets Stevie. "What's the latest?"

The middle-aged lady with greying red hair behind the counter sparkles at them. "Hello, Stevie! Nothing **too** extraordinary here, but some real odd ducks have made the Glasgow shop their office."

"Odder than Glasgow's usual ducks?"

Miss Enid laughs, then, "Yes, odder than Glasgow's usual."

The bloke queued behind Chuck clears his throat.

"I'll be with you in a moment, dearie. Now, Stevie, who's your new friend?"

"This's Chuck. He's my duckling."

"Oh dear."

"I'm not **that** bad!"

"Don't let her lead you into trouble, young man. A bad influence, that Stevie Lanphier." She shakes her head.

"Miss Eeeniiid," whines Stevie.

"I'm just teasing," she reassures.

Stevie huffs.

"What can I get you youngsters today?"

"I'll have a Kelpie and Chuck—"

"Uh, what's the special?"

"Today it's a pot of our Marceline blend—adventurously sharp, but still sweet—and one of our warm, homemade chocolate chip cookies."

"Think I'll pass on that." Chuck looks to Stevie. "Little help?"

"No problem. Chuck'll have a Mermaid and we'll each have a slice of your apple pie with vanilla ice cream, please."

"I'll bring all that to the back room for you when it's ready."

Stevie opens her wallet. "How much do I owe?"

"On the house, in honour of you **finally** earning a duckling."

Stevie beams. "I'm not gonna turn down free food."

"If you did, I be worried about your health," laughs Miss Enid. "Go make yourselves comfy and this'll be right out."

"Thank you~!" sings Stevie and she steers Chuck into a comparatively empty back room.

"This space reserved for wi—folks like us or something?" asks Chuck as he slides in at the corner table.

"Exactly. This place is the main transit point for wizards coming to and from the school. You can't Apparate any closer and the gatehouse's the only Floo node on the grounds and this's the only public one in the village, so." Stevie shrugs, sprawls. "The food's good, too."

"Cool, cool."

Stevie pushes up her jumper sleeves, revealing a patch of multi-coloured skin.

"What's—you have a tattoo?"

Stevie grins, offers a better view of her forearm. "Yea, it's the logo for my aunt's band, the Corinthians."

The magical ink pegasus flaps its wings, tosses its head.

"I had it done to cover up the bites. And look badass, 'course."

"It's pretty awesome," agrees Chuck.

"I can give you the number for my artist. He's applied most of the ink you'll see around here."

"Cool. Thanks." Chuck sighs. "Doubt my old man'll let me, but."

"You won't be a kid forever, right?"

Chuck smirks. "Right."

Stevie taps her temple. "We're a good match: thinking alike and all."

"Seems like it."

"So ... aside from sneaking into the MacIvers' meeting, what've you been up to today?"

"Breakfast. Self-defence." Chuck shrugs. "Other first week stuff."

"Settling in okay?"

"I guess."

"Cool."

Chuck fiddles with their cutlery, Stevie sips her water.

"Anything good from your eavesdropping?"

"Yea."

"Dragons missing roll call at Chez MacIver and ...?"

Chuck worries his napkin. "Some stuff about Glasgow."

"You wanna poke around yourself?"

" **No.** "

"Fresh eyes might spot something they're missing." Picks up her water glass. "Running a parallel investigation could be fun."

Chuck pointedly focuses on his spoon.

Stevie cocks her head. "You wanna do this for real, you're gonna need some backup." She grins. "I know just the blokes. Wait right here." She hops to her feet, marches into the fireplace room.

Chuck waits, chin on palm, staring out the window at the river.

A staffer in an apron and carrying a tray appears and lays out drinks and pie.

"Thanks," says Chuck.

"You're welcome~!" She flits off the way she'd come.

Chuck's halfway through his food when there's a scuffle from the fireplace room and Stevie strolls over followed by—

"You guys?"

"Yep! They've got the **perfect** combination of skills," declares Stevie. "Liam can talk you outta trouble, Kieran's got enough magic to do just about anything, and Iestyn's an ace tracker."

"They call me the 'canine unit'," he preens.

"What does **that** mean?"

"My sense of smell's stuck in 'wolf-mode'. If it smells, I can follow it."

"That's gotta come in handy ...."

"'cept when these guys 'forget' to wash their socks."

Kieran grumps, shoots him a look.

Liam ignores it as they all pull up chairs, plunk down.

"So, what's the plan?" asks Liam, leaning forward.


	8. Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam reveals hidden depths.

20 October 2017  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
near Hogsmeade, Highland, Scotland, UK

* * *

"You **actually** had a plan?"

"Of **course** I had a **plan** ," sniffs Chuck.

Mako just looks at him.

Chuck just looks back—grumbles, "Okay, I had some **ideas** ; he—" Jerks a thumb toward Liam. "—had a plan."

Liam shrugs. "Figured it'd look bad if we killed off the new roommate in less than a week, like that guy who pushed his into the loch for the kelpies to eat."

"Could've set a new record though—ow!" Iestyn rubs his arm.

"Why **did** you have a plan?"

"From the way you were looking at the folks there for the dragon meeting, you were up to something and I wanted in."

Chuck furrows his brow. "Hold on ... **you** wanted in? I thought Stevie **invited** you!"

Liam scratches Max's neck. "Yea, I kinda asked Stevie to volunteer us when I warned her you were going to sneak into the meeting."

" **That's** how she found me?!"

Max worms closer to Liam, leans until he can rest his chin on his knee.

Liam scratches more vigorously. "She **might** be psychic, but I doubt it."

One of Max's hind legs flails in the air in some kind of reflex.

"You like that, huh, boy?"

" _woof!_ "

Chuck turns to Iestyn and Kieran. "You two knew this?"

They nod.

"And didn't tell me?"

They nod again.

" **Why?** "

"He asked us to tag along," says Kieran, shrugging.

"And he's usually got good instincts for these things," adds Iestyn.

"You've done this **before**?"

"Only little things like sneaking out after hours."

"Which came in **totally** handy, you'll admit."

Chuck concedes with a huff.

Mako fixes him with a Look. "What's this about Glasgow, being up to something, and sneaking out?"

"Uh oh~! Someone's in trouble~!"

"Don't make it worse!"

"Chuck."

"Uh, yea." Chuck tousles Max's ears.

Max drools extravagantly.

"We waited until after dinner a couple of days later and, when the receptionist's back was turned, hopped the Floo to Glasgow."

"That's when things got **interesting**."

"I'll bet they did."


	9. Underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck, Liam, Iestyn, and Kieran head to Glasgow to investigate and someone's caught red-handed where they shouldn't be.

14 October 2017  
Glasgow subway system  
the Gorbals, City of Glasgow, Scotland, UK

* * *

Chuck studies the map on the platform wall at their fourth Glasgow subway stop of the night.

"Stop gawking," hisses Liam, shoving Kieran. "You're making us look suspicious."

"I **swear** someone's following us."

"If you weren't acting so edgy, no one'd give us a second look."

"I'm **sure** —"

"Would you two **please** argue about something less annoying? Like, maybe, football?" huffs Iestyn. "You're taxin' my cycles."

Chuck stifles an eye-roll, prompts, "Any trace?"

Iestyn takes a deep breath through his nose, sighs it out. "Maybe?"

"Just ... yes or no."

" **Maybe.** There's not much to work with, yea? Any track's over a week old and there's a lotta 'noise' down here."

"Maybe this is pointless?" says Kieran.

"Or maybe you didn't get a good enough sniff of Inky?"

"I smelled Inky just fine." Iestyn sighs again. "I was **gonna** say, before you interrupted me, ' **if** I've smelled one tonight, it's here."

Chuck's heart picks up speed, but he forces his voice level. "Which way?"

"Left." Iestyn frowns. "I think."

"Right. Kieran, bollix the cameras."

Kieran glowers, twitches a hand at his side.

Above them, the CCTV gear whines, shudders.

"Station's dark 'til they send someone down."

"Cool, cool. Thanks."

Kieran grunts.

"We'll follow you," Chuck tells Iestyn.

They trump off along the platform, over the gate to the maintenance walk along the rails.

"Ye know what's weird?"

"We're creeping around under Glasgow following **you**?"

Iestyn flips him off. "Someone walks along here with that Marcie-whatever red tea from Gowdie's a **lot**. Surprised you guys can't smell it: 's **strong**."

The ground rumbles.

"Train."

"We **know**."

They press themselves flat to the wall as the machine thunders past, resume their shtump when it's clear.

What must be halfway to the next station, Iestyn stops in front of a door-shaped hole in the wall. "In here. Definitely."

"Yea, we can **all** smell it now." Liam waves a hand in front of his wrinkled nose. "Dragons **stink**."

"C'mon." Chuck pushes through. " _Lumos._ "

The tip of his wand glows a reassuring white.

"Hold on," mutters Kieran.

A _click_ and banks of fluorescent lights along the ceiling flicker to life.

" _Nox,_ " mutters Chuck. Louder, "Start searching."

"For what?"

"Maybe they missed something."

"Like what, dragon shit?"

"Just **look**. If they cleared out in a hurry, they'll have left something behind. Maybe it'll tell us who they are or where they've gone."

Grumbling, but everyone takes a side of the room and starts poking about.

Chuck cheers internally, faces the opening. He takes a deep breath, weaves a complicated figure with his wand.

The gap shimmers and perfect door Illusionment takes shape.

Chuck congratulates himself, pulls out the top drawer of the wobbly desk at the front of the room.

Nothing.

Nothing.

More nothing.

""After you.""

Chuck freezes, hisses.

""Coward.""

Motion at the—

""Having any luck?""

" _Stupefy!_ " yells Chuck, aiming—

Kieran yelps and something flashes—

The red Stunner and an ugly green hex splatter against the newcomer.

Chuck holds his breath, readies a Body-bind curse.

Laughter and the new bloke—Spikey from the dragon meeting at the School—strolls through the fading spells.

Kieran braces; Chuck raises his wand.

"My, you boys are quick on the draw," giggles Headmaster Fairbairn, sauntering up with Legs the dog.

Chuck swallows; in his peripheral the rest go deathly pale.

"Are you alright?" asks Fairbairn.

Spikey ruffles fragments of magic from his hair. "That **almost** stung, but these don't have near enough to hurt me."

"What're you, then? World's shortest giant?" snaps Chuck, stepping nose-to-nose.

Spikey smirks. "That's a new one. Points for creativity."

Liam slides between Chuck and Spikey, nudges—

Chuck retreats, hackles up.

—sketches a wave at Fairbairn. "Uh, hi, sir. What brings you to Glasgow?"

"Oh, well, Desira and I were out for our evening jog around campus when I received a call from my old friend Mister Douglas—" Inclines his head toward Spikey. "—informing me a few of my students were trying to manage mischief in the subway."

"Wha-who saw?"

"I've been tailing you since Cowcaddens station," says Douglas.

"I **told** you someone was following us," crows Kieran.

"My bad," Liam concedes. "Next time I'll believe you."

Kieran sniffs.

"Umm, Mister Douglas?" quavers Iestyn, peeking from behind a table. "How did y-you know to look for us?"

"Your little dragon-friend tattled and I got told to keep my eyes open for ye."

"Last time we trust Katie," huffs Liam.

"So, um, what happens now, sir?" asks Chuck.

"Well, since you've gone to all this **trouble** ...." Fairbairn rocks on his heels. "You may as well have a butcher's around."

Chuck blinks at him.

Fairbairn makes a shooing motion. "Go on. You need to finish quickly so we can get you back before too late."

Chuck controls a wince, marches back to the desk, resumes digging.

Finds nothing.

He heaves a disgusted sigh, taps his foot, scans the space.

Fairbairn leans against the wall, idly scratching Legs' ears.

Douglas reclines beside him, thumbing at a mobile.

Kieran and Liam disassemble a wooden-framed dog—or dragon—crate.

Iestyn floats a meter or so off the floor, peering at the upper surfaces of the lighting fixtures.

Chuck yanks the top right drawer all the way out of the desk.

A slip of paper flutters free.

Chuck nabs it before it hits the ground, squints at the smudged writing.

@ exc  
bl hx2 1 830  
ss j 19 1830  
bl h 22 2030

Liam peers over his arm. "What'd ye find?"

"Looks like a delivery schedule. See, 'be-el' must be for 'black'—like 'Hebrides Black'—the 'one' must be the date, and 'eight-thirty' the time."

"So what're the rest?"

Chuck grimaces. "'At ee-ex-cee' **must** be the place and 'ex-two' probably means they want two Blacks."

"This sounds like a drug deal," says Iestyn.

"Makes you wonder what the street value of a dragon is, doesn't it?" puts in Fairbairn.

"More than any of us're worth," declares Kieran.

Fairbairn scoffs, "Not even **close**."

"Yea, there's a pretty hefty premium for magic users," adds Douglas.

"What d'you—"

Fairbairn waves off the question. "I believe you've found all there is to find. Best make our way aboveground before we have to ruin more electronics."

Chuck scans the note, then the room, nods. "Yea, we're done here. Let's go."

Fairbairn and Legs lead the way; the rest fall in behind them; Douglas takes rearguard.

They retrace their steps, then up the stairs to the other loop, then hover on the platform for the train.

"You can handle it from here?" asks Douglas.

"Desira and I should be able to manage."

"Then I best get back 'fore my guest gets too annoyed with me."

"A **very** good idea." Fairbairn bobs his head. "A pleasure as always, Mister Douglas."

"Wish I could say the same, Diarmad." Douglas grins, tousles Legs' ears, then melts into the crowd.

Fairbairn sighs, fond.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Mister Parry."

"How much trouble are we in?"

"That depends on if you're in your dorm in time for curfew."

"You're saying we're at the mercy of the train?" squeaks Liam.

"At base, yes."

"We're doomed," sighs Kieran.

"Now, now, Mister Griggs. This isn't the London mass transit system. You still have a measure of hope."

Liam whines; Kieran hunches his shoulders.

Chuck wills the train to move faster.

"Mister Hansen?"

Chuck jumps. "Yes, sir?"

"You won't learn how to properly bend time until your seventh year, so I recommend against trying it now."

"Yes, sir," grumps Chuck.


	10. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam, Iestyn, and Kieran recount a few of their earlier adventures.

20 October 2017  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
near Killin, Stirling, Scotland, UK

* * *

"Did you make it in time?"

Chuck sighs, nudges Max off his lap.

"I take that as a 'no'."

"We missed by a half-hour," says Liam.

"Had to wind all the clocks in the classroom building."

"That sounds like quite a punishment."

"It wasn't as bad as the time we talked Kieran into letting us spend the solstice in Norway with the selkies," replies Liam.

"We went with the 'it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission' approach," explains Iestyn.

"Fairbairn **definitely** thought we should've asked for permission."

"Still don't know why **I** got yelled at," grumps Kieran.

Mako and Chuck both raise eyebrows at him.

"Far as I knew, they **had** permission."

Mako laughs, nearly doubling over.

"What's so funny?"

"Chuck has certainly found the right comrades-in-arms."

Iestyn preens.

Liam grins. "I'd like to think so."

Even Kieran smiles a little.

"Given that," says Mako, "I doubt you behaved properly for long."

"Actually, we've done **exactly** what we've been told since we got back."

"Yep. Fairbairn said to leave the investigating to the grown-ups, so we did."

"The Sashas told us to stay behind while they came here and we **totally** did."

"Fairbairn said 'get in the car' and we eventually stuffed Liam inside."

"I'm allergic to cars!"

"You're **scared** of cars!"

"I'm scared of Fairbairn's driving," mumbles Kieran.

Chuck ... sighs, rubs Max's chin.

Max tilts his head, licks Chuck's palm.

Kieran spreads his hands. "C'mon, Hansen, you have to admit we've taken to the **whole** you better than anyone here—'cept Mako—would've."

Chuck concedes with a grunt.

Iestyn leans closer to Mako. "You know how **well** we took to him? We were gonna sit up **all night** playing board games with him **even though** we had classes the next day."

"That is what true friends **should** do."

" **Exactly** ," crows Iestyn.

Max _whuffs_.

"See, Chuck, even the dog agrees!"

"I guess you're alright blokes."

"Don't worry. We won't let that go to our heads."

"Yea, or he'll have to finish beating us at Monopoly."

Chuck sniffs.

"When did you have time to play **Monopoly**?"

"It's what we were doing when the Call to Action came in."

" **Totally** Stevie's idea, by the way."

"What was?"

"Monopoly. She has a thing for the fake money. 's weird."

"But you know what was **really** weird about it?"

"What?"

"That the Sashas knew ahead of time **exactly** where we were gonna set up."

"Yea ... that was odd."

"They brought snacks, though, so that was cool—"

"Maybe we should tell this from the beginning, yea?"

"Probably."


	11. Marking Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck and friends head into the hills above Loch Tay to await Chuck's transformation, only to be disturbed by guests and unexpected news.

19 October 2017  
shore of Lochan Breaclaich  
near Killin, Stirling, Scotland, UK

* * *

Chuck, aching and **freezing** inside two jumpers and a parka, plods along a mostly-invisible path behind Stevie and Iestyn.

Max pants along happily at his heels.

An icy wind cuts through Chuck’s clothes and he shudders into his scarf. "Why couldn't we just **fly**?" he whines, dragging himself along the edge of the pond.

Kieran sniffs, "As if you could concentrate well enough right now to stay on a broom."

"I could fly just **fine**."

Kieran scoffs, "Yea, ri—"

"Shut up, both of you," snaps Stevie. "We're almost there, anyway."

"You mean England?" grumps Chuck.

Iestyn spits.

Stevie rolls her eyes. "No, we haven't left Loch Tay. We're just ... out of sight of it."

At the head of the column, Iestyn squeaks, "Smoke!"

Liam crashes into Chuck's back. "Wha?"

Max whines.

"Everybody stop! I smell smoke," Iestyn hisses.

Stevie draws her wand. "What kind?"

"Wood. Campfire, probably." Iestyn sniffs, eyebrows climbing. "I think there's marshmallows."

"You're fuckin' with us now," growls Chuck.

"Seriously, mate! Someone's roasting marshmallows up ahead! We need a new—"

""Youngsters arrive!"" booms a voice from the trees. "" **Finally.** ""

"Oh, hey, Sasha," says Stevie, tucking her wand away. "That your fire we smell?"

"Yes, is Sasha's. Come!" Taller Sasha beckons. "Before snacks are cold!"

So on they trump to a little clearing, where, in the far half, he pokes at a blazing, yet smokeless, fire.

Tall Sasha sits nearby, enthroned on one of a pair of camp chairs.

Taller Sasha nudges a log, rumbles, "Charles' friends get more firewood, yes?"

Liam chirps, "You got it!" Grabs Kieran's arm and drags him back the way they came.

Taller Sasha calls, "Pile is straight back!"

""Got it!""

"Should we put the blankets down?" asks Iestyn.

Stevie glances, "Uh, yea—"

A dull green, lizard-sized dragon on Tall Sasha's lap blows a jet of orange flame at a marshmallow on a stick in its claw.

"You got it," mutters Iestyn, slinging off his rucksack.

The tiny dragon cocks its head, puffs a little more fire, then chirps and passes the stick to Tall Sasha.

"Thank you, Niva. Marshmallow is perfect, as always."

The dragon _peeps_ , puffs out its chest.

Tall Sasha strokes its head, cooing.

Niva _chirrups_ , squints red eyes.

Chuck tugs a blanket closer to the fire and controls a fall to the ground.

Max wiggles into his lap.

Taller Sasha settles into a reinforced camp chair with his bag, digs out some chocolate and graham crackers, squashes the marshmallow between them, breaks the sandwich in two, and offers half to each Tall Sasha and Niva.

The dragon squeaks, nibbles.

Chuck swallows, focuses on his breathing.

Stevie peers at Niva. "I've never seen a dragon like this before. What kind is it?"

"Niva is Russian _Zmeinyy Sharf_. Very common wizard pet in Russia."

"If they're 'common' why haven't I heard of 'em?"

"Exporting _Zmeinyy Šárfy_ is illegal. Best not to tempt foreign wizards by showing off, yes?"

Iestyn looks at his handiwork, then dumps the rest of the blankets to the side and sits down.

Niva, food gone, climbs Tall Sasha's coat, coils around her neck under her scarf.

Stevie sighs wistfully. "Can't do that with a Breeze."

Tall Sasha smirks, strokes Niva's nose. "MacIvers know not what they miss."

Niva squints, purring.

"Breezes are good dragons, not good as _Zmeinyy Šárfy_ of course, but good dragons."

"'cept they don't like werewolves," grumps Iestyn as he floats their quilt to the grass. "They always nip at us."

Max _woffles_.

Stevie—"Oh, jeeze, Chuck, you don't look so good." Snags a blanket from Iestyn's pile and drapes it over his shoulders.

"Thanks," mumbles Chuck.

"Charles is cold?" asks Tall Sasha.

"Kinda," Chuck admits.

Liam sings, "We're back~!"

"Good," says Taller Sasha. "Here, please." Nudges the ground beside his chair with his foot.

Liam and Kieran deposit their loads, then plunk down on either side of Iestyn; Kieran rifles through the rucksack for the board games and stacks them on the blanket.

Tall Sasha flows to her feet. "Charles may borrow Niva until Charles changes shape. Come now, Niva." She digs it out. "Hand, please."

Chuck warily extends an arm.

Tall Sasha eases it onto his sleeve. "To Charles, Niva is 'Cherniy', understood?"

"Got it."

Cherniy rattles at Tall Sasha, then scampers up Chuck's arm and dives into his jumpers.

It's pleasantly warm.

"'s not gonna set me on fire, right?"

Tall Sasha scoffs as she reclaims her seat.

The fire crackles loudly in the quiet.

"So ...." Liam picks at his scarf. "Now we wait? You'll go scaly at some point?"

Chuck sighs. "Yea, Taylor, now we wait."

"No, now we play **Monopoly**!" cheers Stevie, pulling the box out of the stack.

Tall Sasha leans closer. "Monopoly is game of domination, yes?"

"Financial domination, I guess." Stevie lays out the board.

"Then Sasha will play." She slides from her chair to the quilt.

Taller Sasha folds himself next to her. "Sasha, too."

Kieran asks Chuck, "You took your potion, right?"

Chuck rolls his eyes. "Of course I took my potion."

"Just checking ...."

"Great thing to check," says Stevie, then shakes the token box. "What'll it be, Drake-y Boy?"

Chuck rolls his eyes, but, "Anything tough."

"Battleship?"

"Sure."

Stevie drops it on 'Go', hands the box to Tall Sasha, and off it goes around the circle.

"Anyone for snack?" offers Taller Sasha.

A resounding affirmative.

As he hands out chocolate, Liam asks, "So, what're you guys doing here?"

Stevie adds, "Are you part of Chuck's support group, too?"

"For Changing? No. Invested in his care? Yes." Tall Sasha shifts. "Charles and students were in city, yes? Sasha wished to check on condition."

Chuck grunts, "Same with ...."

Kieran offers, "MacCailín?"

"Yea, MacCailìn."

The Sashas exchange a look, then, "Yes."

"Anything good?"

"What was it that Charles and students saw?"

"You first."

The Sashas exchange a long look.

"Alright then." Liam leans back, grinning. "Since it seems we both have questions, how 'bout we make this game more interesting, yea?"

Tall Sasha's eyes narrow. "Go on."

"Along with collecting tax, we can ask you a question when you land on our properties, and you can do the same when we hit yours. How's that sound?"

"Charles and students will answer without glib, yes?"

"If it's about the whole affair of lost-and-found dragons, yes. Otherwise, no promises."

The Sashas consider, then Tall Sasha nods, smiling dangerously. "Sasha agrees. Game will be improved by raised stakes."

Chuck side-eyes Liam.

He leans in close, whispers, "You wanted to keep investigating, right? Now's a chance to get some prime intel."

Chuck grunts.

Liam peers into the box. "Seems like that's the lot." Settles back. "Ladies first!"

Everyone looks to Tall Sasha.

She smiles with a lot of very white teeth, takes the dice.

Inevitably, Chuck lands on Tall Sasha's property. He grumps, raises an eyebrow at her.

"What did boys make of conditions in underground lair?"

"Thrown together," replies Chuck.

"Yea, everything was cheap and barely strong enough," adds Kieran. "It was a holding cell."

"And it smelled like tea," puts in Iestyn.

"Thieves are better organized than Sasha thought," rumbles Taller Sasha.

"What does that mean?"

"No answer until Sasha owes Charles rent."

Chuck growls.

A few turns go by before Taller Sasha's top hat stops on Liam's railroad.

Liam cheers, then asks, "Do you know who's stealing dragons?"

"Yes."

"So, who is it?"

"Sasha will tell next time Sasha owes for train ticket."

Liam sighs, "We gotta learn to phrase questions better."

"Yes, students do."

Tall Sasha's pocket booms like a foghorn.

"You get signal out here?"

"Sasha has very special mobile." She puts it to her ear, announces, "Speak to Sasha."

Iestyn whispers to Chuck, "Five quid she's charmed it."

Chuck snorts, waves him off.

"Understood. Sasha will go to Hogsmeade immediately." She thumbs off the mobile, slips it away.

"What's going on?"

"Adult dragon is on loose near other magic school. Sasha will deal with dragon until Scotsmen arrive."

" **Adult** dragon?" Chuck's voice cracks.

Max lifts his head, licks Chuck's chin.

"Charles doubts Sasha?"

"N-no, but why—"

"Is Swedish dragon."

"Short-snout. 'Ess-ess'! It's one of the dragons from the list!"

"It must've broken loose at the exchange—"

"Which means the point's near Hogwarts!"

Kieran grouses, "Which's too far away for us to do anything about it."

"Right," sighs Liam.

"Boys will put out fire, take Charles' dog, and go back to school grounds. Charles and Stephanie will come with Sasha."

"Why'm I doing **that**?" grumps Chuck.

"Because Charles will find own way to Hogwarts if Sasha does not keep eyes on him, yes?"

Chuck concedes with a huff, nudges Max off his legs, pokes the lump of Cherniy under his clothes.

Tiny claws poke and prod up his chest as the dragon climbs him, then Cherniy peeks out of his collar, launches itself at Tall Sasha, landing on her extended arm.

Iestyn takes Max's lead from Chuck. "We'll get him back in one piece."

"Thanks."

"Stay safe!" calls Liam.

"Don't do anything **too** stupid," adds Iestyn.

"Charles and Stephanie will be on best behaviour."

Chuck rolls his eyes.

Liam waves and he, Kieran, and Iestyn head off into the trees, Max waddling being.

"Charles and Stephanie hold hands with Sasha."

They do.

"Onward to Hogsmeade!"


	12. Self-Preservation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck's visitors are unceremoniously removed.

20 October 2017  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
near Hogsmeade, Highland, Scotland, UK

* * *

"You three didn't offer to defend Hogwarts?" Mako's voice and eyes are ice-cold.

"Uh, no?" Liam gestures helplessly. "I've got no magic. Only thing I could do versus a dragon is cover myself in sauce and hope it stopped to eat me."

"Well, I've got **magic** , sure." Iestyn fiddles with an ear. "But I'd just be underfoot of the folks who know what they're doing."

"Same here," says Kieran. "'sides, I'm not risking myself to defend this place. A castle fulla Pure-bloods should be able to take care of itself."

"It's not like that," says Mako.

"Oh really." Kieran crosses his arms. "Name **one** person at this school who isn't completely human."

"It's rude to disclose the blood status of a fellow wizard without their consent."

"'Rude', huh? Sure that stops a **lot** of people from talking."

Chuck swallows. "Aren't those Hufflepuff sisters part-Veela?"

Mako gives him a Look.

Chuck busies himself with a TimTam.

Kieran sneers, "I bet they get treated **exactly** like they do everyone else."

Mako remains. calm, scratches behind Max's ears—

"What do you expect?" Chuck grumbles, worrying the packaging. "They're **allowed** , but not **welcome**."

Liam grins, "As gloriously illustrated by your case."

Chuck sighs. "Exactly."

Mako continues tightly, "I haven't seen any mis—"

Chuck says, "You didn't hear the shit blokes'd say when Victoire or Dominique turned 'em down." Rubs his neck. "I mean, they'd say awful stuff whenever they got rejected, but it was **worse** with them."

"You would correct them, wouldn’t you?"

"Um, they were only being—"

"Total assholes," growls Kieran. " **Racist** assholes, sounds like—"

"Have a TimTam!" Liam stuffs one in Kieran's open mouth.

He glowers, but chews anyway.

Chuck continues, "It's just guys—"

"We'll teach you how to shut that shit down once you're back on your feet, yea?" says Iestyn. To Mako, he adds, "The Community Action group had a workshop last month."

"It would be useful to have that sort of training here ...."

"I can get you the contact for the folks we worked with?"

"I would appreciate that."

"Quality! I'll send an owl." Iestyn sits up. "I get to send actual **owl post**! I'm finally a real wizard! I can die happy!"

"Knock that off," scolds Liam. " **I'm** the dramatic one!"

Everyone except Kieran giggles.

Max sits up, attends the door, tail wagging.

"What's going on, boy?"

"According to my nose, this party's about to end," says Iestyn.

""— **down** , Desira-sweetheart. There's no need to be in such a rush,"" pleads a man with a very thick Scottish brogue.

"Yeaaa ..." Liam heaves a sigh. "We're about to be kicked out."

""Headmaster Fairbairn—""

""Madam Pomfrey! How lovely to see you and I would so love to catch up but—Desira, heel—no—""

Claws skitter across stone.

Madam Pomfrey continues, ""I really **must** object to a second dog visiting Mister Hansen. It's too stressful—""

"" **Nonsense** , Madam Pomfrey—""

A wiry-haired, brindle deerhound gallops in, greets Iestyn—Liam—sniffs Mako—

Max _woofs_.

—prances to the bed, clambers up, thoroughly investigates Max—

""—that dogs have been scientifically **proven** to reduce stress in hospitalized patients—""

—and flops down next to Chuck.

"'ey, Legs," he murmurs, scratching its chin.

Legs _whuffles_.

""—and twice as many dogs should cut his stress **four times** as much and speed his recovery—""

Liam leans closer to Mako. "He **totally** made that up right now."

She looks to Chuck.

"Probably. He's about half the reasons that place is bonkers."

A tall wizard with outrageous eyebrows strides into the room, Madam Pomfrey in pursuit.

Iestyn inches a crinkly TimTam wrapper out of sight.

"If the lot of you—not you, Miss Mori—are still here in five minutes, I will have to recruit the furniture."

The wizard says, "Fear not, Madam, we shan't keep your patients for nearly that much longer."

"As I would expect." She turns on her heel and leaves.

The wizard walks straight up to Mako—"You must be Miss Mori! Both Mister Hansen and Headmaster McGonagall speak very highly of you—" Offers his hand.

Mako scrambles to her feet, shakes. "Thank you, sir."

"I forgot to give my name, didn't I?" He sighs hugely, then sweeps a bow. "Diarmad Fairbairn, Headmaster of the Loch Tay Regional Combined School." Gives Liam, Kieran, and Iestyn a long look. "Currently acting _in loco parentis_ for this lot. I **hope** they're not causing you **too** much trouble."

"They have been gentlemen," assures Mako, smiling.

"Excellent!"

"Why aren't you asking about me?"

"Because, Mister Hansen, I'm likely to get actual information out of Miss Mori instead of just a—" Puts on a terrible Australian accent. "—'It's only a flesh wound.'"

"I don't sound like that."

"You **absolutely** sound like that," insists Iestyn.

Chuck pouts.

Headmaster Fairbairn rocks on his heels, eyes scanning the room. "Everything seems so much **smaller** than last time."

"You've been here before?"

"Quite often, in fact, but I haven't darkened the door to /this particular wing since September nineteen-seventy-two."

"What'd you do?"

"Failed to duck quickly enough. It took three long, **long** days to regrow my ears." He rubs one between his fingers. "Don't think they've ever been the same."

"Is that what happened with your eyebrows, too?" asks Iestyn.

"Those are a family heirloom, passed down in my father's family for generations now."

"Isn't a—" Liam makes air quotes. "—'family heirloom' just something folks are too afraid to throw out?"

"Hush, Mister Taylor. I've met all eight of your great-grandfathers and let's just say eyebrows like these will be looking migh-ty good in about eighty years."

"What're you talking about?"

"You'll find out~!"

Liam frowns powerfully.

"Or we can discuss it on the drive back—"

"I'm not getting in your car again!"

"Would you rather walk?"

"There's **gotta** be a Floo node here **somewhere**."

"Of course there is, but you'd need permission to use it. **Which** you're not going to get."

Liam whines.

"How're you all gonna fit in the car with Stevie?"

"Miss Lanphier's still sleeping down the hall. I'm told she spent much of the last twenty-four hours conscious and watching over you."

Chuck looks away, blushing.

"Come along, lads. Mister Hansen needs his rest." Headmaster Fairbairn picks up his dog's trailing lead. "You, too, Desira."

Desira whines, licks Chuck's hand, hops to the floor.

Max whines, watches her go.

"Max, though, can stay. Headmaster McGonagall's given him permission."

"Cool. Thanks," says Chuck.

Liam, Iestyn, and Kieran push to standing, shuffle their feet.

"Well," says Liam, "I guess this is 'goodbye' for now. Mako, it was great to meet you."

"The same. All of you."

"Keep an eye on Chuck for us, yea?"

"I will. I promise." Mako smiles.

"I can—"

"Chuck, behave."

"I'll kick your ass when I get back."

"You're welcome to try, but I don't go down easy."

Chuck scoffs.

"That's enough. Out with you." Headmaster Fairbairn gestures the trio toward the door.

They tromp out; Liam drags his feet.

"I'll be back to collect you when you're ready to return to class, Mister Hansen."

"Yes, sir."

"Take care of yourself until then, please."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you." Headmaster Fairbairn bobs his head. "It was good to meet you, Miss Mori."

"Likewise, sir."

"Goo—" Headmaster Fairbairn freezes, then frantically pats his jacket.

Mako looks to Chuck.

Chuck shrugs.

"Aha!" Headmaster Fairbairn yanks an envelope from an interior pocket, presents it to Mako with a flourish. "For you, Miss."

"Thank you?"

"It's a standing invitation to visit us at Loch Tay—once our lives have returned to what passes for normal, of course."

Mako's heart skips a happy beat and she says, "Thank you very much, sir. I will **definitely** take advantage of this."

"Wonderful! We're all looking forward to showing off for you. Until then, goodnight~!" He waves, saunters out with Desira at his heels.

The footsteps fade away.

"So the campfire was why you smelled like smoke when we met?" says Mako.

"Yep." Toys with Max's ears. "Real rustic, ay?"

"It was not what I was expecting."

Chuck shrugs, then, "What were you up to in Hogsmeade, anyway?"

"Well, when you arrived, I had just ...."


	13. Two By Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck and Mako race to warn Hogwarts of the approaching dragon.

19 October 2017  
Market Street  
Hogsmeade, Highland, Scotland, UK

* * *

Mako accepts the handful of Knuts in change from the clerk behind the Tomes and Scrolls counter, bobs her head. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, miss. Enjoy your books!"

"Thank you. I will." Mako picks up the parcel in its plain brown wrapping, tucks it under her arm, strides across the shop and outside, setting the bells over the shop door jingling.

Small groups of shoppers bustle by as the lanterns along Market Street flicker to life.

The air smells of snow and, oddly, campfire.

A familiar voice mutters, ""—can't **believe** they just **left** us here.""

Mako turns. "Chuck?"

An unfamiliar voice retorts, ""They’re kinda busy with the whole—""

Mako puts herself in motion. "Excuse me, Chuck?"

He turns slowly, shoulders hunched, blinks at her from between a knit cap and a scarf. "Mako? What—"

"I thought I recognized that grumbling," she smiles.

Chuck grunts.

"What're you doing here? Who left you?"

The other person pulls down their scarf, offers a hand. "Hi, I'm Stevie, Chuck's mentor at the Scottish School. You must be Mako."

Mako shakes. "That would be me."

"As for the 'who-what-why', the Sashas ditched us and there's a pissed-off dragon heading to Hogwarts because someone’s been smuggling them and got sloppy—"

Chuck adds, "We need to—"

Mako takes Chuck's hand—

"Oi!"

—tows him—

""Hold up!"" hollers Stevie.

Chuck plows into Mako's unmoving back.

"Gimme your stuff."

Mako glances—hands over her books. "Thank you."

"No prob. I'll catch up with you later. I got people to warn and you've got Chuck handled, I think. He's taken his potion."

Mako snaps a nod, tows Chuck at a quick pace toward the edge of Hogsmeade.

"What's the—"

"The moon's very nearly the fullness."

"I **know** , but—"

"We need to get to Hogwarts—"

"The Sashas are—"

"—and get you away from people. **Now.** "

"But—"

Mako gives him a look over her shoulder without slowing down.

Chuck goes quiet, stumbles along faster.

Mako breaks into a jog.

"I can't—slow down!"

Mako does, measuring her steps more carefully as the houses thin out and the Shrieking Shack creeps into view.

She leads them to a little hollow shielded from the lane by the Shack.

Chuck collapses on all fours, panting.

Mako's heart aches; she kneels beside him.

"Gimme some room," he wheezes. "Almost time."

Mako bites her lip, backs to the edge of the dip, presses her earmuffs more tightly to her ears with her hands.

Chuck's screams and the snapping of bones cut through her like knives.

She pries open her eyes.

Chuck staggers to his clawed feet, shakes his sharp head, rattling his collar of spikes.

A great, silver-scaled dragon.

"Y-you're even bigger than last month," she says, wiping at her cheeks.

Chuck huffs—breath warm as a furnace washes over her—lowers his chin to the ground, flicks his gaze from her to his back.

"You think you're strong enough?"

Chuck rolls a blue eye the size of a dinner plate.

Mako smiles. "My apologies. Of course you are."

He sniffs.

She sprints across the grass, scrambles up Chuck's shoulder, settles herself astride the base of his neck, takes a tight hold of one of his stiffer spines.

Chuck rocks back on his hind legs, takes a monstrously deep breath, and **throws** himself into the air, wings battering the Shack with a gale. He climbs in a spiral, then banks through a shallow turn and rushes them onward.

* * *

"Your flying is not at all like a broomstick," says Mako.

"Yea, it's **work**."

"For me, too. The motion lurches terribly and you continually make adjustments to your posture. I was always almost falling off."

"S-sorry."

"It was incredible! To fly on your strength, without magic." She leans closer. "To have that sort of **power**."

"I'd rather use a broom, like a **normal** wizard."

Mako flinches.

Chuck looks away. "Alright, flying without magic **is** pretty awesome, but it's not worth it." Chuck strokes Max's back. "Not even close."

"I—" Mako swallows. "I understand."

Wings flutter and a house owl lands on the foot of Chuck's bed, fixes Mako with its wide-eyed stare.

She eases over, removes a scrap of parchment from one of its legs and a clawful of individually-wrapped teabags from its talons.

The owl waits while she unfolds the note, written in a scrawl.

Mako! We're alive!  
We stopped by your room, but you weren't in.  
We'll check the hospital wing in a bit.  
Help yourself and Chuckie to some tea on you!  
Love, Luna  
Ps. Send your parents a message.  
Parchment should be long enough.

Mako smiles, offers a packet to Chuck. "Would you like tea?"

Chuck wrinkles his nose. "Not that stuff. The pepper makes me sneeze—"

"You've had—"

"—and how'd you even **get** it?"

"Cameron was giving it away in the Great Hall because he'd gotten a fresh selection from his parents."

"Mako, that's the same stuff Iestyn was smelling with the dragons."

"It's probably a coincidence since it's a very popular flavour. I had to duel for it."

"It's still **weird**."

Mako hums a concession—

The owl hoots.

"I think it wants something."

"I never would have guessed." Mako searches—

Chuck tosses her a pencil.

"Thank you." Mako smooths the parchment on the bedside table, writes,

Mom, Dad;  
I'm fine + I hope you both are well.  
I'll send a longer letter soon.  
With all my love, Mako.

and reties it to the owl.

It hoots happily and takes off.

Mako sits back, smoothes her pajamas. "Is there a different tea you would like?"

"I'll take a look."

"And I'll finish my story. Where was I?"

"Flying to Hogwarts—"

* * *

—Castle races closer with each beat of Chuck's enormous wings.

Chuck glides wide around the Whomping Willow, angles for the faculty housing wing.

"We're telling your father first?" shouts Mako over the rush of air.

Chuck rumbles an affirmative.

"How're we—"

Chuck squawks a warning.

Mako tightens her grip.

He raises his head, twists his body nearly vertical, slams his claws into the castle wall.

Mako barely avoids smashing her nose on Chuck's neck.

Bits of stone and mortar skitter to the ground far below.

Chuck scrabbles along the wall, gouging trails as he goes, hooks his claws over a windowsill.

Mako's ears ring as he roars.

The window swings open and Coach Hansen—loses all colour, mouth working wordlessly.

Chuck's hind legs slip; he grabs—wrenches the window from its frame, sends it crashing away—squeaks a desperate noise.

Mako scrambles along his neck, down his snout, hops to the floor, straightens, turns.

Chuck rumbles, throws himself away from the castle, and soars over the lawns toward Hagrid's house.

Coach Hansen flutters, squeaks, "Mako? What's going on? Why's he—"

"There's a dragon—a **real** dragon—coming this way. We need to prepare a defense."

"A real—" Coach Hansen straightens, says with a steady voice, "Right. I'll get the Headmaster and the professors. You start moving the students below ground."

"Yes, sir." Mako sets her teeth and runs.


	14. Party Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck and Mako welcome _another_ set of visitors.

20 October 2017  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
near Hogsmeade, Highland, Scotland, UK

* * *

"So my Old Man believed you right away about the dragon, huh?" Chuck takes a mouthful of their compromise lemon tea. 

Mako nods, sips her own. "I think, though, your appearance did much of the work of convincing him."

Chuck grunts.

"Hagrid understood immediately as well?"

"Pretty sure he was just chasing me, but." He shrugs. "Bet getting everyone moving was a royal pain."

Mako's mouth twists into a rueful smile. "They moved much more quickly after the Headmaster's owls arrived with her orders."

"Yea, that'd do the trick."

"So well in fact, I left it to the prefects and went to—"

""Found you!"" hollers Tamsin, racing across the room, scooping Mako out of her chair into a hug. "You're okay!"

Ruby Glittershine _peeps_ , jumps from her shoulder onto Chuck's bed.

""Don't squish her, Tammy,"" scolds Luna.

""Hey! Off!""

"" _woof!_ ""

Tamsin laughs, sets Mako down, declares, "Alright, **now** the party can start!"

"Thought I was s'posed to be resting now," mutters Chuck, nudging Ruby Glittershine's pointed snout away from his ear.

"It'll be a very **quiet** party, then."

Ruby Glittershine huffs, turns around on Chuck's pillow, sits down, drapes her tail across his throat.

He makes a choking noise, bats the tail away.

Ruby Glittershine snickers.

Luna gives Tamsin a look as she settles into one of the chairs.

On her shoulder, Pleione keeps watch on the door with her purple eyes.

Tamsin grins, sits, scootches her chair tight against Luna's. "And how're **you** feeling, Chuckie?"

" **Don't** call me that." He smirks. "I'm fine, but your dragon's not **nearly** warm as the Russians'."

Tamsin lunges, covers Ruby Glittershine's ears with her hands.

Max startles, tumbles onto the floor.

"Don't you listen to him, sweetie. He doesn't know **what** he's talking about." Scowls at Chuck. " **Clearly.** "

Chuck rolls his eyes.

"That's it. You don't deserve dragon snuggles." Tamsin gathers Ruby Glittershine, tucks her inside her shirt, flounces to sitting.

Max whines, looks up at the bed, wags hopefully.

Luna sighs, hefts Max next to Chuck on the mattress.

He _woffles_ , licks her arm, then Chuck's face.

"Stop it, Handsome."

Max plops down, wags his tail.

"Thanks," says Chuck.

"You're welcome." Luna stretches her legs in front of her.

"So ... what were you two talking about?"

"Yesterday," replies Mako.

Tamsin leans forward. "Have you gotten to the part where he kicks the dragon's butt yet? 'cos I wanna hear **that**."

"No ...."

"What about when Mako—"

"We haven't talked about any of the fighting yet."

"Can we~?" Tamsin bats her eyelashes, first at Mako, then Chuck.

"Fine," grumbles Chuck. "So, I dropped Mako off at the castle and got Hagrid's attention—"


	15. War Drums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rogue dragon arrives at Hogwarts.

19 October 2017  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
near Hogsmeade, Highland, Scotland, UK

* * *

 

Chuck launches himself from Hagrid's garden—apologise for the pumpkins later—pulls himself into the air, putting everything he has into getting high, **fast**.

Below, Professor Longbottom herds a class from the greenhouses toward the castle, looking over his shoulder every few steps. He catches sight of Chuck, stumbles.

Chuck sniffs, climbs, scans the horizon—

Motion in his peripheral—

Wizards on broomsticks in white kit—Swedish dragon reserve Rangers—rush up, wands out.

Red jets of Stunners sizzle past his head; one stings his arse.

Chuck rumbles, dives, angles for the castle wall, more hexes screaming after him, looking—

Mako!

He plummets; she runs, jumps, scrambles up his side; he hauls them back into the air and over to the Rangers, now hanging fire.

"Mako? That you?" hollers one as they take up flanking positions.

"Yancy! Yes! Stop hexing this one! He's a friend!"

"I can see that! When we're done with this you've **gotta** tell me how you trained an Ironbelly!"

Chuck scoffs.

Mako thumps the side of his neck with her palm. "Of course!"

The oldest of the Rangers yells, "You and Silver fall back, we'll handle this until there are enough wands on the ground to bring it down safely, yea?"

"Yes, sir!"

Chuck grunts, banks away from the broomstick-riders, scans—

Bluish-grey darting behind a nearby tower.

Chuck roars—

A deafening, answering bellow—

**Dragon—**

_Teeth!_

Chuck snaps his wings shut—

Mako plasters herself against his neck—

Dragon shoots by overhead into a spray of spells.

Chuck evens out—

The Rangers shout, fire another volley of Stunners.

Dragon shrugs them off, roars, spits blue fire.

Rangers scatter, tossing hexes at random.

—races for altitude, risks a glance back at the dragon.

The dragon—half-grown, and but sporting the knife-like, massive nose horn of a male—roars again at the Rangers, wheels away. 

Chuck clears the bulk of the towers, breathes a bit easier, angles for the Astronomy Tower—

A roar and a jet of flame _crackles_ past his nose, Knifehead **right** behind.

Chuck rolls with the impact—Mako slides dangerously—straightens up, throws all his weight into shoving Knifehead toward the Rangers, away from the castle.

More hexes fly, bounce harmlessly off scales.

Mako shrieks, whack-whack-whacks his right side.

He looks—

Gryffindors: about a dozen of 'em, sneaking out an open window.

—growls.

"I'm going to help them!" Mako flings herself clear, her body shrinking and twisting, until she hits the ground as a dog, barking and nipping at those damn red idiots.

A wall **smashes** into Chuck's side, drives him into the Gryffindor Tower, knocks the air from his lungs.

Then the ground races up, **way** too fast.

Something gives in Chuck's side—fuck fuck fuckity **fuck** —and he tumbles ass over elbow down the lawn.

Chuck staggers to his feet, shakes cobwebs from his head.

Knifehead charges—

Chuck braces—too slow!

—bowls him over, gets a clawed forepaw on his neck, pinning him down.

Chuck flails.

A roar like a foghorn shakes the ground.

Knifehead **and** Chuck twist for a view.

Dull green dragon with buggy red eyes, stomps closer, howling.

Knifehead rumbles, stands on his hind legs.

Greenie puffs up, beats its chest.

Chuck scrambles to his feet.

Hexes splatter against Knifehead's hide.

One Ranger darts in, fires a shot—

Knifehead smacks him out of the air with a forepaw, roars, charges.

Chuck lunges, bowls Knifehead over and away from the downed Ranger, sends them both sprawling.

Knifehead throws him off—

Chuck rolls, rears back—

—blasts him, full-force.

—absently watches the blue flames lick over his belly plates.

He's fire-proof.

**Awesome.**

Gryffindors and a dog— **Mako!** —yelp.

Greenie rushes in again, jaws snapping.

Knifehead pivots, slaps Greenie in the chest with his tail.

Greenie goes **flying** , splashes down in the lake.

Chuck leaps, headbutts Knifehead in the side.

Knifehead tumbles, hops to his feet—why's it have t'be one of the agile species—spits—

Chuck stands, gets his armour up in time.

_BOOM_ , says a drum.

Knifehead turns—

Chuck bellows, throws a handful of lawn.

—whips around—

_BOOM_

Chuck exhales—

The MacIvers are here, drums and all.

—charges Chuck.

—swipes for his horn.

_BOOM_

Knifehead pulls up at the last picosecond—

Too much momentum, Chuck's claws rip through his unarmoured throat—

Blood and acid fountain over grass, stone, Chuck ....

_BOOM_

Knifehead tips, tilts, crashes to the ground, gurgling, forelegs weakly paddling.

Chuck staggers back, stomach churning.

Blood—

_BOOM_

He twists, hauls himself into sky on aching wings.


	16. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck reflects on the fight with Knifehead.

20 October 2017  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
near Hogsmeade, Highland, Scotland, UK

* * *

Max _woffles_ , wiggles onto Chuck's lap.

Chuck absently scratches Max's head.

"It was an accident," says Mako, keeping her voice gentle. "You didn't mean to kill him."

"But I did."

"You did what you had to in order to protect those kids and that hurt Ranger," insists Luna. "You can't beat yourself up for it."

Chuck shakes his head.

"Seriously, kid," says Tamsin. "You saved **lives** stepping in like you did. You're a **hero**."

Chuck narrows his eyes. "Am I enough of one for 'em to let me back into Hogwarts?"

Luna and Tamsin exchange a look.

Luna says, slow, "That's up to the governors and the Headmaster."

"Which means 'no'," spits Chuck, "because now they're **sure** I'm a monster. Seen it with their own eyes."

"Chuck—"

"It's **true**. There's no way they're letting me back in now."

Three heartbeats of silence.

"To your credit, you didn't stick around to cause more mayhem."

"Well I wasn't gonna stay and get in everyone's way!"

"You wouldn't've been in—"

"I was thirty feet of fire-breathing lizard!" Chuck yells, "and I didn't want to hang around with that ...." He ducks his head.

Max _whuffles_ , licks Chuck's cheek.

Chuck nudges him away.

Silence drapes itself over them, presses heavy on Mako's shoulders.

She worries the hem of her pajamas.

"D'you know what happened next?" asks Chuck.

Mako shakes her head. "I was too focused on the injured to notice anything else."

"Maybe—"

""Charles should consider thanking Sasha, yes?""

"You guys **are** still here!" cheers Tamsin.

Taller Sasha beckons with his wand and two chairs scuttle in from the corridor, rattle to a stop on the opposite side of Chuck's bed.

Tall Sasha settles regally, sniffs, "Sasha would not leave without 'thank you' from Charles."

"What'm I thanking you for?"

Taller Sasha claims the other chair. "Charles does not remember what happened after battle?"

"If I did, would I be asking?"

"Perhaps Charles does not want to tell story?"

Chuck grunts, looks at Mako through his eyelashes. "You really wanna hear it?"

She swallows, nods.

He takes a deep breath, then another. "So, I flew off—"


	17. Battle Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stevie and Sashas tend to Chuck's injuries.

19 October 2017  
Shrieking Shack  
near Hogsmeade, Highland, Scotland, UK

* * *

The Shrieking Shack swims in front of Chuck's eyes.

He wobbles a landing behind it, legs folding immediately and dumping him into the dry grass.

The ache crashes down on him the next minute.

He whimpers.

Ribs, skin over his chest and shoulders, wing muscles, palms ....

He sucks cold air through clenched teeth, clamps shut his eyes.

Six breaths later, he pries them open, twists his neck around, drags his tongue over the tear in his side.

**Blood.**

He gags, gasps for fresh air.

""Chuck?""

He turns.

Stevie rushes up, tosses Mako's books aside. "Heard the ruckus—I'm gonna try and patch you up. Don't eat me, alright?"

Chuck scoffs, flattens himself to the ground, tracks Stevie with his peripheral vision.

She puts her shoulders back, centers herself, weaves a shape kinda like the Siphon charm with her wand, and smiles. "That worked. Next ...."

Chuck closes his eyes.

""Huh. That's weird.""

Chuck makes an interrogative sound.

""Hold on. _Seal._ ""

Magic tickles his side.

"" ** _Gay-ree._** ""

Another tickle.

""Fuck. I don't—I'm switching to salves. **They'll** hopefully work.""

Something cold slimes down his shoulder.

Chuck shivers.

""Sorry 'bout that, but it's gotta be cold to stick.""

Chuck huffs.

""I'm guessing my spells aren't working because you've got some **wicked** magical resistance when you're like this."" She sighs. ""Which means I can't do a thing for your busted ribs, but I **can** do something about all these scratches and burns. What'd you **do** , anyway?""

Chuck just lies there, focuses on his breathing.

""Fine. Don't tell me.""

Chuck breathes.

Cold oozes across another patch of his skin.

""So, yea, our—us werewolves—resistance goes up a little when we're Shifted, but these charms usually still work on us so you must—waitaminute. This looks like a claw track. Did you **fight** the fuckin' dragon?""

He grunts.

""You **did**? Are you fuckin' **nuts**?! It could've—""

A roar splits the air and sets the ground jumping.

"" **Jesus fuck! _Shield!_** ""

Chuck snaps open his eyes, heaves himself to his feet—

The air between them and the green dragon shimmers.

—gets a leg in front of Stevie, bellows with everything he has.

Greenie _peeps_ , vanishes.

Chuck looks to Stevie.

Stevie looks to Chuck. "The fuck? You saw that, right? Big fuck-off dragon?"

Chuck nods.

They wait and watch.

Enormous blonds amble up.

Stevie grins, waves off the Shield.

Chuck rolls his eyes, lies back down, hissing at the pull on his ribs.

"Apologies, Charles and Stephanie. Sasha did not know if Stephanie was friend or foe from distance."

"'s'alright. How'd you manage an Illusion that big?"

"Was no Illusion. Was Niva."

On cue, the little dragon peeks out from Tall Sasha's scarf.

"Oh." Stevie rubs her neck. "Very ... cool." Drops her hand. "Could ... could you show me that? Later? After we put Chuck back together."

"Ah, yes. Charles' battle scars."

"He **did** fight the goddamn dragon!"

"Charles protected stupid Hogwarts students from dragon."

From somewhere around Chuck's armpit, Taller Sasha calls out something in Slavic-Russian-whatever-the-fuck-Sashas-speak.

Tall Sasha answers in kind, then says, "Stephanie has treated Charles' injuries with werewolf remedies?"

Stevie shifts her feet. "Yea, was all I had and he was bleeding pretty bad—"

"Stephanie did well. Only very special spells work on dragons: werewolf medicine is good substitute. Now Sasha will fix Charles' remaining hurts, yes?"

Chuck sighs.

Tall Sasha strokes his nose. "Do not worry, Charles. Sasha is very skilled healer of dragons."

**Stabbing pain.**

Chuck yelps, twitches away.

"Sasha must set Charles' bones before healing. Is best if Charles holds still."

He glowers.

Tall Sasha smiles. "Charles fought very well today, saved many from serious injury."

Chuck queries.

"Ranger and Animagus—"

Mako!

Tall Sasha pushes Chuck's chin into the grass. "Charles will not move until Sasha is finished, yes?"

Chuck whines.

"As Sasha was saying, Ranger and Animagus will be well after spells and sleeping, as will Charles." She smirks, pokes him between the eyes. "So, _Sleep_."


	18. One of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck receives rewards for his bravery.

20 October 2017  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
near Hogsmeade, Highland, Scotland, UK

* * *

"Then what happened?" prompts Mako.

Chuck scowls at the Sashas, sniffs, "Ask them."

Tall Sasha smiles. "Charles slept until sunrise, with help from Sasha."

"You did **not** make him walk here."

Tall Sasha sniffs.

"Sasha carried him," rumbles Taller Sasha.

Chuck cringes.

"'spose you had to wait for him to change back, huh? Not even **you** can lift a dragon," snickers Tamsin.

"Even child can lift dragon," smiles Taller Sasha, "if dragon is small enough."

Tamsin strokes Ruby Glittershine's back. "True 'nuff."

"If that's the case," says Mako, "why didn't you shrink Chuck and bring him back earlier?"

"No wizard—not even Sasha—has Shrinking spell for grown dragon like Charles. Too much magical inertia to overcome with normal spell."

"Very difficult to make dragon do what dragon does not want to do," agrees Taller Sasha.

"Especially when he's Chuck-shaped, right, Mako?" giggles Tamsin.

"Very funny," sniffs Chuck.

Luna cocks her head. "If you guys got here just after sunrise, where've you been since? Didn't see you at the post-mortem."

"Sasha was exchanging information with investigators chasing dragon thieves."

Chuck uncurls. "What'd you find out?"

"Charles' curiosity is intact. Good."

"I'm toasted, not **dead** ," sniffs Chuck.

"Charles makes nearly as good cat as dragon."

Chuck makes a face.

Tall Sasha smiles, leans back in her chair. "From investigators Sasha finds dragon killed eight wizards—"

Chuck goes pale; Mako feels her blood drain from her face.

"—before escaping, but several wizards fled scene. Investigators hunting survivors, broker, and Muggle now."

"Say what?"

"Buyer for dragons is Muggle."

"How did they find out—" Mako swallows.

"Broker sold secret for 'finder's fee'."

"What kinda maniac'd do **that**?"

"Maniac who wished to be bigger, richer man."

Chuck blinks, sits straighter. "It's Cameron Walker's dad, yea? The middle-man."

Everyone looks to him.

Chuck shrugs. "That nasty pepper tea Cameron likes showed up too many places, but if he's anything like Cameron, he's not brave enough to face a grown dragon head-on, so he's the broker."

Everyone digests that.

"How'd I do?"

"Charles has good insight," purrs Tall Sasha. "Colin Walker was indeed broker, as Sasha suspected."

"I have a question, though."

"Yes, Charles?"

"Why'd the dragon attack? Short-snouts're supposed to be shy."

"We don't really know," says Luna. "We didn't find anything physically wrong during the post-mortem, so—"

"We're guessing the folks holding it hurt it with magic, so it lashed out at every magic user it could find."

Mako swallows. "Which means that if it had gotten past Hogwarts, it would've attacked Hogsmeade."

Luna bows her head. "That seems likely."

"Chuck not only saved Hogwarts, he saved the village."

"Seems so."

Chuck looks away. "What happens to Mister Walker and the rest of 'em now?"

"Nothing bad enough for the mayhem they caused?" suggests Tamsin.

Luna sighs. "Yeaaa ... the not-dead wizards'll probably get fined a couple handfuls of Galleons; the non-wizard trying to buy'll have all his memories of magic wiped."

"That's **it**?! Mako and Ray's brother get hurt and **they** get **fined**?! Th'fuck kinda punishment's that?!"

"That's how the Ministry works, kid."

"But-but getting caught using Healing spells on Muggles gets you sent to Azkaban! This's **worse**!"

Luna grinds her teeth; Tamsin glowers; neither says anything.

"Luna and Tamsin speak truth," declares Tall Sasha. "Investigators say blame likely to fall on MacIvers for allowing dragons to be stolen—"

"That's not fair!" yelps Tamsin. "We did—"

Tall Sasha gestures for quiet. "Bureaucrats prefer finding fault with known troublemakers, yes?"

Tamsin huffs.

"When you put it like that, they'll probably send Colin Walker to prison for a couple of years for the Secrecy breach. He's been a nuisance for **ages**."

Chuck leans forward, expression sharp. "Like what kinda—"

"Chuck," scolds Mako.

He grumps back into his pillows.

"So bureaucrats punish Walker, blame MacIvers and Glasgow's Lord for—" Tall Sasha makes air quotes. "—'letting crime happen'."

"How's punishing **them** gonna keep someone else from trying this?"

"We'll be on watch, strengthen our anti-theft wards," assures Luna.

Tamsin adds, "Really doubt they'll use Glasgow as a base again, either, since this means the folks in charge there're **definitely** onto them. 's gonna be a right trap for ne'er-do-wells for a bit."

Chuck raises an eyebrow.

"They don't appreciate Ministry attention."

"They've got a **choice**?" sneers Chuck.

"Glasgow's got its own rules. Trust me," drawls Luna.

"The Ministry's a little frightened of the place, honestly." Tamsin laughs. "Between Weetimorousbeasties along the river, banshees in the Barras, the dullahan of Dumbarton Road, a vampire with steel teeth, and the Laird, it's fulla nightmare fuel. Even the Dark Lord in his heyday wouldn't set foot there."

Mako frowns. "The dragon thieves weren't afraid."

"Aaand most of 'em are dead." Tamsin looks—

Tall Sasha nods.

—smiles. "The rest better be running. Besides the Aurors, word is the Laird's out for their blood."

"Who's this 'Laird' you keep talking about?"

"Well, no one's sure **exactly** , but—"

Tall Sasha snorts.

" **You** know him?"

"Sasha has met Glasgow's Lord before. For business reasons."

"'Business'?"

"Lord had access to items Sasha needed."

"Is it true he's five hundred years old and, like, ten feet tall with glowing red eyes and a harem of Veela?" squeals Tamsin.

Luna jabs an elbow in Tamsin's side.

"No," says Tall Sasha.

"What's he like, then?"

Taller Sasha chuckles, shakes his head.

"Tamsin must meet Lord to understand."

She pouts.

Ruby Glittershine licks her nose, _peeps_.

"So, that's it? It's over?" asks Chuck.

"Except for the show at the Wizengamot, yea."

"What a **joke**." Chuck crosses his arms, sulks.

"World is not fair, as Charles knows."

Chuck sniffs.

"You know, I think there's something more we need to do before we call this 'over'," says Luna, slow.

Mako queries.

"I think Chuck deserves a reward for heroism."

"Like what? What kinda 'reward' you give a monster?"

"Please stop calling yourself that," pleads Mako.

"But I **am** a monster!"

"You'll be **our** monster, then!"

Chuck stares at Tamsin.

She puffs up. "Yea! We'll claim you! **That's** your reward!" Throws an arm around Luna—

Pleione squawks.

—pokes Chuck's forehead with her other hand, crows, "You're a MacIver now! One! Of! Us!"

"You can't just **adopt** me!"

"Sure we can!"

"Tammy's right," smugs Luna. "The only thing you have to do to become an official MacIver's work with us working with dragons. You did."

"But—"

"One! Of! Us!"

Ruby Glittershine whistles.

Mako leans in closer to Chuck, whispers, "You **want** to be a dragonologist, yes? Work with the MacIvers?"

"Well, yea?"

"Then why are you fighting this?"

"Because—" Chuck blinks rapidly. "I have no idea."

Mako smiles, turns to Luna and Tamsin. "He needs a drum and tartan."

Luna unfastens the pin at her collar, leans across Max, sticks it to the lapel of Chuck's pajamas. She glances, tweaks it straighter. "There. Until you get your mobile back—they did give you a mobile, right?"

Chuck nods.

"Until then, this's how we get your attention in emergencies and sync our actions while we're in the field."

He murmurs something like 'thank you'.

Tamsin waves her wand. "Bibbidi-bobbidi- **boo**!"

The plain white of Chuck's hospital pajamas flush the red and black of the MacIver colours.

Tamsin tilts her head. "That really doesn't go with his colouration does it?"

Luna shrugs.

"I think it looks fine," declares Mako.

"Thanks."

Is he blushing?

"Since you're **officially** Scottish now, you can trade that boring house tartan uniform for a MacIver one when you get back," says Tamsin.

"You serious?"

"As a heart attack."

"Cool, cool."

Tamsin snorks loudly.

"What's so funny?"

"I betcha Chuckie'd be **cuuute** in a kilt, ey, Mako? Showin' off his little freckled leggies?"

Mako does. not. laugh.

"'m not wearin' a **skirt**."

"Kilts are quite comfortable **and** you can hide more knives on your person than the average bloke when you're wearing one," deadpans Luna.

"The Scots are really onto something with that," snickers Tamsin.

Luna hums agreement.

Chuck huffs, "Still not gonna wear one."

"Mako's loss."

Mako snorks into her hands.

"Mako, no."

She keeps giggling.

"Sorry, Chuckie, it's your national costume now. You'll need to wear it on formal occasions."

"One! Of! Us!"

"I am very sorry to interrupt," interrupts Madam Pomfrey, "but it's time to say 'goodnight'. Mister Hansen needs his rest."

"Aww ...."

"None of that now, out with all of you."

" _wuff?_ "

Madam Pomfrey smiles at Max. "Except for you."

"Come, Sasha."

"Yes, Sasha."

Sashas stand in sync.

"Goodnight, Charles."

"'night and, um, thanks."

"Charles is most welcome," says Tall Sasha. She smiles, Taller Sasha bobs his head, and both Sashas glide out.

"Guess we should head out, too," sighs Luna, unfolding from her chair. "Let's go, Tammy."

Tamsin grumps, but gets to her feet. "Take care, Chuckie."

"Stop **calling** me that!"

Luna shoves her toward the door. "Goodnight, Chuck. We'll see you again soon." She smiles at Mako. "We'll wait for you in the hall."

They leave, followed by Madam Pomfrey.

Mako drags herself to standing, then perches beside Chuck on the mattress.

Max wiggles over to make more room.

Chuck rubs the back the back of his neck. "So ...?"

Mako leans lightly against him, whispers, "We did it, you know."

"Did what?"

"Protected our friends."

"What friends? I've only got you."

Mako sighs.

"What?"

"It's never been just me, Chuck. Raleigh, your father, the professors, the Headmaster ... none of them went away."

"But—"

"Now you've found Stevie, Liam, Iestyn, and Kieran—"

" _wuff._ "

"— **and** Max."

Chuck picks at the cuff of his plaid pajamas. "'m a MacIver, too."

"Let's summarize, shall we? In less than ten days at your new school, you've acquired a dog, a squad, a career path, a new family, and a reputation for heroism."

Chuck stifles a laugh. "Guess I haven't done **too** bad."

Mako fights to keep a straight face. "I expect you to continue in this manner and I fully intend to check up on you with this invitation from your headmaster."

"So, no pressure or anything ...."

"Nothing you can't handle, at least."

"'course not," scoffs Chuck, smiling.

Seven quiet heartbeats.

"It's been great to see you again."

"It's only been a few days."

"Still ... I really missed you."

"Good thing I have Headmaster Fairbairn's invitation, then."

"You know, the weekend leave policy at Loch Tay's pretty relaxed. I can come to Hogsmeade next time they let you go, no problem."

"I'd like that."

"Cool, cool."

In the hall, someone clears their throat.

"I suppose I should be going."

"Yea ...." Chuck wraps—hesitates, wraps her in a hug. "I'm **really** glad you're alright after all that."

She hugs him, so very gently, kisses his cheek.

"Don't wanna think about a world without you in it."

Mako breathes even though her ribs are crushing her lungs.

"Me, world can do with—"

"Chuck."

"Yea?"

"Shut up."

"Yea, okay," he sighs and holds her closer.

Silence, comfortable and warm, curls up around them.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by one of my favorite human beings _ever_ , artificiallifecreator!
> 
> I finished this as part of the 2017 WIP Big Bang and it may never have seen the light of day without that.
> 
> My goodness people, this was a _struggle_ and the sheer volume of stuff that's on my cutting room floor now because of it. I could probably wallpaper an entire academy of wizardry with my (temporarily) discarded scraps.
> 
> I hope I'm able to craft them into prequels and follow-ups to this piece. When I do, they'll be added to this series.
> 
> Please leave questions and comments, and especially let me know if you want to read more about these characters and this world, because, man-o-man, do I want to talk to _you_ about it!


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